The Heir Of The Heir Of Slytherin
by A Sweet Catastrophe
Summary: Sequel to His Last Chance At Heart. Magdalena hasn't seen Tom in years but her son, Aidan, is a constant reminder of him. Now Aidan is curious about his unknown father and a strange group of kids at Hogwarts, especially a certain Slytherin girl.
1. Prologue: Dream

_Prologue_

Magdalena woke up with a jolt. Her heart was beating at an alarmingly quick pace as if she might go into cardiac arrest at any given moment and her body was slick with more than one layer of sweat. She had just had the most unbelievable dream, the kind of dream that you would never dare verbalize to someone else, the kind of dream you kept secret unless you were unfortunate enough to participate in a drunk game of truth or dare. A dream about _him_.

Tom Riddle was in her room, an unwelcome visitor with a thirst for reviving past emotions. He had kissed her so passionately in her sleep and she had woken up without inhibitions, only desires. She had made love to him not thinking about consequence or about what had happened in his dorm five years ago. It had just been a night without a future and a night with only the positive parts of the past present in her mind.

She just couldn't wrap her mind around how real it had been. She could feel the exact way his moistened lips felt on hers as they traced a pattern down her neck to her collarbone and her breasts. She could feel his cold hands touch her skin, causing her to shiver violently with pleasure. She felt what it was like for him to be inside of her, painful at first and then ecstasy beyond anything she had ever felt.

But it was just a dream.

Magdalena would be lying if she said she didn't think about him a lot. He crossed her mind frequently and she always had a hard time getting rid of him, always thinking about what could have been. She knew it was bad to live among the 'what ifs' and 'almosts' but it was such a comforting world, the world in her head, one where he was not mentally aligned with his ancestor's beliefs. But it's better that he told me about his plans before we got too serious, she had concluded, even though what happened between them was emotionally very serious. If it hadn't had been, she wouldn't still be thinking about how she could have loved him.

She crawled out of bed, finding her body to be quite tired and sore as if she had been sleeping on a hardwood floor without a pillow all night. Her nightgown was a bit wrinkled, but that was nothing out of the ordinary after she has a restless sleep. With a dream like that, I must have been tossing and turning in my bed, she thought almost comically as she smoothed out her nightgown. She chuckled to herself out loud but the laughter was laced with bits of nervousness.

On her blue, satin sheets, she saw traces of blood. Damn, I got my period, she thought, making a mental note to clean her sheets. That must be why I had such a sexual dream.

Just to be certain, she carefully scrutinized the various pieces of furniture, candles, and other little objects around her room. Everything seemed to be in perfect order. Nothing had been moved even a millimeter from where it had been after she had laid down to sleep. He couldn't have possibly entered the room, and especially couldn't have had sex with her, without there being some minor change, right?

She picked up her moon earrings off her nightstand and inspected the tiny stars and changing moon carefully. They looked normal also, no fingerprints from him. As she blindly searched for the holes in her ears, her eyes fell to the dried out rose he had given her. She touched the delicate, lifeless petals and, for a fleeting second, she began to wonder. She shook her head back and forth. There's no way it was real she thought, trying desperately to push the possibility out of her mind.

She ran her fingers through her long, raven-black hair and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. Once she caught her reflection in the mirror, her already pale skin grew to a hue of even more pallor. Conspicuous on her neck and collarbone were red oval-shaped marks. They didn't look like scabs or any sort of bruise she had ever seen. Even the chance that they were rashes was unlikely because of how scattered they were and because they appeared to have little indents. The last time she had seen marks like that had been after the night in the Astronomy Tower. What could have caused them but his lips? Mosquito bites, she thought. I must have bugs in my room. They need refuge in the winter after all.

She traced her finger over her full lips which were swollen and chapped. The weather, she thought. It must be the weather. There's no way he was really here. If he was, I would have woken up. I would have known and been sure of what was going on. I wouldn't have let him...or at least I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have.

Magdalena shook her head again, silently commanding herself to stop trying to analyzing the situation. Nothing happened and that's all there is to it, she concluded, although she knew in the back of her head that just because she tells herself to believe something, that doesn't make it true.


	2. Chapter 1: Nightmare

_**Author's Note**: Okay, so if you're big on dates, the year is technically 1967 but because I was unaware of when a lot of the characters were born until recently (Harry Potter wiki assisted me here), if you are really strict on canon, the year is actually like 1971. The weird thing about the actual canon though is that according to actual canon, the Potters were like 20 when they had Harry and the First Wizarding War ('70-'81) ended a year later. Were they fighting in the war right out of school? I guess so._

_Chapter 1_

Behind the majestic but neglected confides of the famous Riddle House that resided right near the town line of Little Hangleton, there existed a private graveyard for its previous occupants. No new graves had been dug in the brittle, infertile ground since the deaths of Tom Riddle and his wealthy parents who were the current patriarch and matriarch of the house at the time of their death. Those bizarre murders, as they were named murders even though no actual evidence was found, had marked the end of the Riddle line. The fall of the house of Riddle, or so everyone had come to believe.

A translucent mist flowed over the unnaturally chilled graves and their statue counterparts, of which erosion had taken its course on. The moon above shown down onto the handsome face of a boy, eighteen years old with jet black hair, dark eyes, and a ghastly white complexion, as he cautiously made his way through the eerie abyss, the ground giving way with every step he took.

After several minutes of stealthily wandering around, the boy stopped dead in his tracks as he stared up at a large tombstone. This was what he had come for. The tombstone had an armored statue by its side, like a protector of the burial grounds, and _Tom Riddle (1903-1943)_ was intricately inscribed upon it. The boy reached out to touch the letters, his eyes widening at the prospect of finding this particular grave.

"Aidan!" called out an older, feminine voice from behind the boy.

He glanced over his shoulder to see his mother running through the Riddle manor's yard and into the graveyard, a terrified expression marring her oddly beautiful face.

"We have to get out of here. Come on!" she shouted to him, grabbing his arm whose hand was still placed on the headstone and trying to tug him away from it.

"Is this what you haven't been telling me?" the boy demanded, wiggling out of her grasp. His smoldering glare convinced her that any persuasion technique she could possibly use on him would be completely fruitless.

"We have to go!" she insisted, unable to think of something that would be better to convince him of the extreme danger they were in. She knew she was deliberately avoiding the question but she didn't have time to explain so she instead grabbed his wrist so tight that she cut off the circulation in his hand, causing him to lose all patience.

"Answer me!" he yelled vehemently, gritting his teeth at her. His dark eyes flared with anger and threatened violence.

For the first in her life, she was afraid of her son. This wasn't how she had raised him to be. She had wanted him to stay away from this kind of behavior, from this place and all its stories and secrets. But at that moment he was turning into what she had most feared from the moment she found out she was pregnant.

A sneering, skeletal figure appeared in the cemetery, halting the mother-son pair in their argument as they turned to stare at the startling spectacle before them. He was mostly masked in shadows but it was evident that he was surprising thin and tall. His long fingers were curled around a wand that he slowly held up so that the tip was facing them.

And with those two forbidden words, the murderous spell was cast from his wand. Who it was directed at was unclear because before the stream of light could reach its destination, Magdalena woke up, clutching the sheets on her bed and shaking violently.

"Just a dream. Just a dream." she repeated out loud to herself, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. It was always just a dream.

Once she had calmed down, she fell back into her sea of pillows and sighed heavily. It had been a few months since she had last had one of those dreams so she was long overdue for one.

Since that night that she was convinced was a dream had turned out to be a reality, she had been having reoccurring dreams about _him_. They were spontaneous in date but they always fit similar patterns that had been altered over the past seventeen years.

Before, in the dreams, he had looked like how he did that night he had came to her, young, handsome, but for the past ten years or so, his face has been blurred or masked in shadows. She couldn't explain why this had happened, she hadn't forgotten what he looked like, but it was one of the strange modifications.

There was a bit more variation in the plots of the dreams but they usually ended in a death or, more so, the seconds before the actual death. Sometimes the dream would feature the two of them having sex and when they were done, he would kill her or their son would walk in and thus, be murdered. Those kinds of dreams had gone from being really passionate and consensual to being vicious rape as the years passed to the point where she severely feared having one of those dreams. The other kind were just as bad though. It would be her and her son in some location that could be anywhere from their house to Diagon Alley and he would appear to them and kill. Magdalena never actually knew who he was aiming for.

The Riddle House was a new location for one of her dreams. She had seen it before once or twice when she had passed through the town on a trip. Just the sight of it made her nervous. She knew that it probably shouldn't because he had been so detached from the paternal, muggle side of his family anyway, but she always had a hunch that there was something going on there that no one knew about.

She snatched the clock off her nightstand only to find that the mocking hands read 9:00. Hm, I'm up early today she thought, laying back down and purposely trying to fall back to sleep.

Then she remembered what day it was. The first day of school and for her son, Aidan, it would be the last first day of school he'll have as he started his seventh year today.

And this year, we won't be late, she thought determined as she hopped out of bed and flung open the door to his room. Aidan was dead asleep on top of the covers, face down into his pillow as if he had passed out. His messy black hair hid any trace of skin on his face but the rest of his pale, white body was visible as he was scantily dressed in only a pair of blue and white striped boxer shorts.

"Wake up, Aidan. It's time for school." Magdalena whispered into where she had guessed his ear to be.

Aidan groaned a long, agonizing groan. When did mum get the ability to wake up before noon, he wondered.

"Oh, come on. We don't want you to be late for school...again." Magdalena insisted, ruffling his hair like he was still a little kid.

For the past three years both of them had slept in and missed the train and Magdalena had to drive all the way to Hogwarts. There was actually a running joke about it in the school but this year she was determined to get him to the station early since she had been blessed with waking up at a decent hour. Although the price of such a blessing was, for lack of a better word, unnerving.

Aidan groaned again.

"Okay, fine. I'll see you in the kitchen then." she said as she walked back to her room to get dressed.

Once she was gone, Aidan turned his face towards his clock and sighed.

"We have two whole hours before the train leaves!" he yelled so that she would be able to hear him from her room.

Instead of getting a verbal response, he was met with the sound of loud music pouring through the house. Something is wrong, he thought. She only blares music when there's something wrong because usually she's going on and on about protecting your hearing.

Sighing, Aidan climbed out of bed and sluggishly went over to his closet to find only one outfit that he had not packed, a white button down shirt, a thin gray sweater, and simple black pants. He dressed as speedily as he could, which was actually a pace the rivaled a sloth moving along a tree branch, and walked into the kitchen to see his mother sitting at the table sipping tea and looking like hell. Underneath her ice blue eyes were large, dark circles that gave the impression of limited sleep, her full, naturally red lips were held tightly together and she seemed deep in thought. She was wearing a black dress that had a flowing mesh-like skirt and sleeves and her long, black hair hung down freely with her moon earrings peaking out beneath the strands. She looked like she was either going to a funeral or on a date with a vampire.

"Mum, what's wrong? You look like you're in mourning." Aidan said, searching through the cabinets for something to eat. Usually they were never awake to eat breakfast so the cabinets weren't exactly stocked with breakfast foods.

Magdalena's lips curled into a tight smile.

"No, I'm not in mourning." she said simply, taking another sip from her cup. The hot liquid ran down her throat and spread to her fingers and toes. It made her feel undernourished.

Aidan pulled down a box of cereal and started eating directly from it. In a house where it was just you and your mom, you didn't always have to use bowls unless you both want some.

"But there is something wrong. What is it?" he asked, leaning against the counter. He had often wondered if she ever got lonely while he was away at school. She never _seemed_ to mind not having a man in her life; she was always solely focused on how much she missed Aidan.

"I had a scary dream." she said vaguely, her gaze still focused in a random upward direction.

"What was it about?" Aidan asked, grabbing a bottle of milk from the refrigerator and pouring the calcium-enriched liquid into a glass.

Magdalena sighed. She had made a few vows to herself when she had found out she was pregnant. One was to not reveal the identity of the father to anyone. Because of her secrecy, all of her friends, family, and coworkers had assumed she was raped and, thus, didn't want to reflect on the horrible memories. She did nothing to dispelled the belief because saying who it was would surely bring about life-threatening consequences and it was only half a lie anyway.

The other vow had been to raise him properly. She had assumed that if she taught him how to be a good person, than the fact that half his genes are pure evil may not get a chance to show itself. At least not to the point of destructiveness.

So far, he had been a studious, generally well-behaved kid although considering the fact that both his parents had skills in the art of secrecy, you never can be too sure. Following in his parents footsteps, he had been honored as a prefect and he would be going back to school this year as Head Boy. His grades were, of course, immaculate and he was well-liked by mostly outcasts.

Every time Magdalena looked at Aidan, she could see Tom. Although Aidan believed he looked more like his mother since they had the same color hair and skin, he actually shared more similarities with his father who he didn't even know of: same bone structure, same devious smirk to his lips, same dark eyes. He looked so much like his father, Magdalena was often afraid of someone seeing him and thinking _Hey, the boy looks just like a young Tom Riddle. Could it be his son? _

Magdalena remembered that her son had asked her about her dream.

"Well, I think you were killed." she said, trying to ignore his shocked expression.

"Oh...nice." he said awkwardly, putting away the cereal box.

"I tried to save you but I was defenseless. It was terrifying. A mother's worst nightmare for sure." Magdalena said. "It's a good think I'm not prophetic."

There was a moment of silence where the only noises heard came from the record player that was still playing its loud, depressing song.

"We should get going, huh?" Magdalena said, putting her cup in the sink.

"Yeah." Aidan replied tentatively. "I'll go get my trunk." he said, running off to his room.

Magdalena took her white cardigan off the back of her chair and put it on, buttoning up only the bottom few buttons. Then she put all of her hair up into a French twist like style, setting it in place with a bejeweled clip. At least now I don't look so funereal, she observed, looking in a mirror.

Off to King's Cross Station for the first time in three years, she thought, even though she was really more focused on Aidan's reaction to that dream. Please let me not be psychic.


	3. Chapter 2: Platform

_**Author's Note:** A little sad I don't have more readers. I was hoping that everyone who liked the predessesor would return even if this story is different in style and plot than the first one. Oh well. Comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy._

_Chapter 2_

Magdalena carefully pulled into the empty parking space, taking her foot off the gas petal and letting the car slowly drift into the center of the spot. She almost had it perfect until the tires slid on the wet pavement causing the car to pull up a little further than she had anticipated. She quickly put it in park and turned off the car, applying the emergency brake for extra security. She just missed hitting the curb by barely a centimeter and Aidan knew it but he reminded in quiet contemplation of the dream his mother had last night. It wasn't the first time she had dreamt of him dying but there was something different about the way she had approached it this time.

Aidan had a feeling that she had been having dreams like that ever since he was born but she didn't start telling him about the dreams until he was fifteen, when she figured he could handle the startling report. This had to be the fifth one she had told him about. Usually, she would treat it like any other bad dream, telling him right away, still trying to shake off the fear, but this time it was as if she thought it could really happen. She seemed apprehensive of something he wasn't quite sure of. It made him uneasy to say the least.

Magdalena tucked her keys in her purse and looked over at Aidan who was staring out the window with a spaced-out expression he had indubitably inherited from her.

"Ready?" she asked, trying to at least sound a little more than tormented with concern for his well-being. Hopefully Hogwarts is safer than home.

Aidan lifted his chin off the palm of his hand and nodded at her reluctantly and mutely.

"Okay." she said, smiling weakly at him. He didn't return the emotion and instead got out of the car to grab his trunk from the boot of the car, slamming it shut with barely enough force to close it properly.

Magdalena climbed out of the car and gently clasped a hand on his shoulder, concerned.

"Are you alright, Aidan?" she asked him. He wasn't exactly the most sanguine person in the world to begin with but this was a new low in cynicism that she marveled at.

He nodded solemnly and moved away from her loose grip.

"We should find a trolley for my trunk." he stated stoically sounding all too much like his father for her comfort.

As the mother and son made their way through King's Cross Station, fascinated passerbys whipped their heads around to gaze at the striking display they created. At the still-young-to-have-a-teenage-son age of thirty-nine, Magdalena had maintained a youthful radiance of a twenty-four year old. Her face had yet to be marred by harsh lines, her hair had yet to contain aged strands of grey, and her physique had yet to be neglected for the solace found in snack foods that so many mothers fell victim to. Aidan, standing tall at eighteen, possessed a maturity that lead to being commonly mistaken for someone in their early twenties. When the two walked together in public they were often thought to be a brother and sister with a large age difference or, on some awkward occasions, boyfriend and girlfriend.

After many stares that could only be described as ruthless gawking at the beautiful black and white and grey clad couple, they made their way to the wall separating platforms nine and ten. Aidan raised his eyebrows.

"So we just run through it?" he asked his mother.

"Has it really been that long since we've been here?" she asked with a laugh.

"I'm just making sure nothing has changed." he said simply before disappearing into the brick. Magdalena followed, finding there to be something very dismissive about the way he was speaking to her.

"Hey, what's wrong, honey?" she asked him once there were standing on platform nine and three quarters, the smoke from the train's engine encircling their ankles. "If this is about the dream, you shouldn't reflect on it for a second."

A few other parents glared pointedly at them, fascinated by either the fact that Magdalena had been in the papers more than once for advances in potions or the fact that she looked like she must have given birth as a teenager, even though she had been almost twenty-two. A few who recognized them were simply mesmerized by the fact that they were there and not sleeping at home.

Aidan curled his red lips in a dishonest smile. "I'm fine, mum. Don't worry. I can protect myself." he said, with a slight air of confidence. His father again although Magdalena had never been well acquainted with Tom's arrogant side because he hid it so well from everyone.

"Hey Lumairo! What the bloody hell are you doing here?" shouted out a deep, husky voice from farther down the platform. Aidan and Magdalena turned and saw his friend, Chad Harman, a seventh year Slytherin, running up to them, his brawny frame seemingly more massive than it had been when he had visited Aidan a few weeks ago.

"Hey Harman. We actually woke up on time this year." Aidan replied, shaking his hand in the enthusiastic way of old friends. Magdalena smiled stiffly. From the very second five years ago when she had found out her son had become close friends with a Slytherin, she had been cautious. She told herself not to be prejudice but after her own experience with not thinking biased, she couldn't help but wonder about him and what kind of influence he could have on Aidan. Upon meeting him that summer, she had concluded that he was someone to keep an eye on.

"Miss Lumairo, you're looking positively breathtaking today." Chad purred, smiling suggestively at her as he ran his beefy fingers through his dirty blond hair.

Magdalena's smile became even more rigid. Oh, how she detested him.

"Hey A, you better get your arse on the train. It's leaving in, like, five minutes." he informed them.

"He won't be late." Magdalena stated curtly. "I'd just like a moment with my son, Chad. I'm sure your parents would want to say good-bye to you too."

"Naw. My parents already left. They can't wait to get rid of me every year." he said, his eyes narrowing in disgust as if he thought himself to be the most pleasant person in the world and anyone who wouldn't want to be with him should be damned to hell.

Hm, shocker, Magdalena thought sarcastically to herself.

"I'll see you later." Aidan said to Chad, as he got onto the train.

"Why do you hang out with him?" Magdalena asked Aidan, hiking up her purse on her shoulder.

Aidan shrugged. He truthfully didn't know why he liked being with Chad. Maybe it was that he was different, an outcast of sorts, and thus, terribly interesting in the most obscure way.

"Anyway, I guess this is good-bye until Christmas." she said, putting her hands on his biceps. "Be good, study hard," she touched her forehead to his, "and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"So I can beat people up if it's for the greater good?" Aidan asked, grinning.

Magdalena laughed and pulled him into a tight, motherly hug. She could still remember when she could balance him on her knee like it was just yesterday, sitting in the rocking chair, back and forth, as she sang little children's rhymes to him to get him to fall asleep. Where did my baby go, she wondered as she placed a kiss on the top of his head, her nose getting lost in the mass of black hair. He smelled like a man.

"Write me often." she said. "I'll be sending owls all the time so I'll be expecting responses."

"I will." he promised, giving her a less circulation-restricting but still just as meaningful hug, at least for an eighteen year old whose friends were watching him embrace his mother.

"Bye Aidan. I love you." she said, slowly letting go of him.

"Bye Mum." he answered as he ascended the stairs of the train to find his friend's compartment.

Magdalena let out a heavy sigh as the train started to pull away from the station. Dear Aidan please be careful, she thought, rubbing her pale, white hands together, not so much for warmth but for comfort. A gust of wind blew past her, her hair and dress flying behind her, making her feel like she could take off right then and there. All she had to do was lift her arms and be carried away into the clear, blue sky.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is there a dark angel standing before me?" a slimy voice asked that appeared to be coming from above her. She glanced up to see a tall man with balding dark hair who was so lean that his black slacks were barely holding up. He was also wearing black robes that gave him a sinister look she found unsettling. He looked familiar though...

Magdalena glowered at Lestrange. "Hm, I thought I smelled something foul." she muttered under her breath. Mentally, she was thanking God that he hadn't approached her when she was standing with Aidan. Lestrange would have taken one took at him and known.

"Magdalena Lumairo, it's been a long time. You look damn good." he said, staring at her chest. She crossed her arms and shot daggers at him with her eyes.

"My face is up here." she snapped.

He looked up at her and smiled. His teeth were crooked and browned, a look that didn't suit all of his 'wealthy pureblood' bragging he had done in school. "I saw your name in the paper a few months ago. You made some other discovery, right? In . . . that job . . ."

"Potions research." she corrected sharply.

"Right. That's it. So, you've got a kid here, huh? I haven't seen you here before. First year?"

"Seventh. Maybe you've heard of him. He's head boy. Top of his class." she said, trying to make him feel inferior. She will never forget what that bastard did to her, or any of those bastards from the Slug Club for that matter but she held most of the blame on Avery and Lestrange because they were the ones who actually constructed the bet.

"I got a little girl starting her second year. A proud Slytherin like her dad." he said, beaming with pride.

"How sad that you felt the need to reproduce." she said, sneering.

Lestrange ignored her comment. "So are you married?" he asked.

"That's none of your business." she answered, hiding her left hand in her armpit so he couldn't see whether or not she was wearing a ring.

"I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to come by my way sometime." he said, leaning into her. If she were married, she would have said so. "I know you have a bad side. You just don't show it too often."

Not to you, she thought. The last time she had let that part of her out resulted in Aidan's conception. After it had happened, she realized what kind of spell she had been under and realized that she couldn't_ totally_ blame Tom for what happened as much as she wanted to.

A little distance away, Magdalena could see a very stiff and unhappy woman who was storming towards them with a furious, determined look on her face.

"Hm, looks like your wife is wondering why you're talking to me." Magdalena said, motioning to the disgruntled looking woman coming towards them. "Don't worry, he only wants me for sex!" she shouted out to the woman. A few people gave her strange looks but her ability to be embarrassed was depleted a long time ago.

And with that, she walked off. The sound of the woman yelling filled the platform and all she could do was smile. Oh, karma.


	4. Chapter 3: Progeny

_Chapter 3_

In front of the blazing fire contained by the ancient brick fireplace and behind the lush red velvet chair that was positioned to face it, a mysterious form sat, drumming his long fingers on his thigh and trying to remain patient. He was late and the figure behind the chair had very little tolerance for tardiness.

He coiled his digits around the long-stemmed glass sitting on the circular stand next to the chair and brought it to his lips. The scent of berries and alcohol filled his nostrils as the chilled liquid rolled down his throat. He sighed and licked his lips to get every last drop of the red wine. There were few earthly pleasures that he found worth enduring and this had become one of them. A calming, numbing practice to help forget what he considered to be the current dystopian society and instead focus on what he held relevant.

Aside from the obvious joys of inflicting pain on those who were deemed subordinate and feeling the rush of power when another succumbed to his will, he had only ever gotten pleasure from two other things: having the occasional glass and sex, even though he had limited knowledge on the latter, having only participated in the act once. He had toiled with the idea of doing it again of course but he knew that it would never be the same unless it was with her.

He angered himself by thinking of how she would view him now. She would probably take one look at him and run in the other direction. He was well aware that he hardly even looked like himself anymore, not quiet another species but certainly no longer holding any aesthetically appealing qualities to the opposite sex, unless he was to meet someone with an odd fetish for men with more than a few reptilian characteristics to their visage. In his opinion, that was a small price to pay for the gift of being virtually immortal.

Sometimes when he found himself with little to attend to, he would ponder various books in search of a spell or potion that could, at least temporarily, change his countenance back to its former look so that he could go see her. He was almost one hundred percent sure that the spell he had used on her seventeen years ago would not be effective if he attempted to charm her with it in present day, but there are always alternative ways to get what you want.

Just as the glass rim graced his cracked lips again, he heard a long creaking noise come from the bottom floor of the mansion. Like clockwork, the door to the room he was residing in opened and the abrasive sound of the basilisk entering filled the room.

"_He's here_." The snake hissed to his master as it encircled the chair he was sitting in.

The sitting figure did not reply. He had expected his pet to be more on top of things than to deliver him news at least three seconds after he had already made the deduction himself. Regardless, he patted it on the head as it made another lap around his chair, in hopes that the snake would be more prompt if it got a little affection.

There was a tentative knock at the door to the room containing the figure and the basilisk that caused the snake to hiss. It also knew he was late and it was much more open to showing its anger than his master who was more about acting calm while torturing.

"Come in." The seated form commanded, continuing to drum his fingers on his leg to show his distaste.

The door made an infernal squeak that caused both creatures to cringe as it was being opened. A scrawny, forty-year-old man with thinning hair entered and slowly closed the door behind him in hopes of nullifying the harsh sound but finding his efforts unsuccessful.

"My deepest apologies, Lord Voldemort." The man declared, lowering his head to the ground as if he was showing himself to be insignificant by comparison and unworthy to look at his leader.

"Make it up to me, Lestrange. Tell me what new information you've uncovered on the platform." Voldemort requested, curling his fingers around the glass but not moving it from the table.

Lestrange started to break out in a nervous sweat. He really didn't learn much because after the interaction with Magdalena, his wife had furiously dragged him home where they had a very unpleasant talk about infidelity and how he was really letting himself go, the result being that he will probably have to sleep on the couch. That is, if he actually decides to go home.

"Well, there was a lot of talk about that murder we conducted of that mudblood shopkeeper. Most people seemed to agree that you were behind it so clearly you're becoming more well known." Lestrange offered, even though it was a slight exaggeration to save his arse. He had only heard two people talking about the murder but he assumed that there were more out there doing the same thing.

"And?" Voldemort asked. He knew Lestrange had to have more information that just that pathetic bit. The papers themselves were all over accusing him of the crime so why should the public think otherwise?

Lestrange had nothing else. The only other thing that happened was seeing Magdalena, which, while surprising, would probably be of little or no amusement to his lord. However, after considering the idea of making up an intriguing lie to feed him, he decided that could get him into more trouble than it was worth and he should just stick to the facts. Maybe he could make some use out of the knowledge. Magdalena was intelligent. Her potions research could be stolen for their benefit.

"I ran into someone from school. Do you remember that girl who came to Slug Club for a day, the one I bet Avery couldn't score with? Magdalena Lumairo?"

Voldemort let go of the glass and straightened his back, trying not to make it too obvious that Lestrange had touched a nerve by mentioning her. His mind was overflowing with questions that he had been suppressing for years but he didn't want to sound eager or make it at all known that they had a relationship, an emotional and passionate relationship at that.

"Yes, I recall. Tell me about her." He said, casually, trying to make it seem as if he was looking for purpose in the mentioning of her and nothing else.

"She supposedly made all these new advances in potions and I was thinking that, I don't know, her research could be helpful. I went up to talk to her but she was really dismissive of me, probably hasn't gotten over the bet thing at the Christmas party, but she's still wickedly beautiful and she isn't even married. I guess that's not really surprising considering that she never really seemed to be into dating."

Voldemort rolled his eyes with his head turned away from Lestrange. Ignorant fool.

Lestrange continued talking. "It's odd though because apparently she has a son who's a seventh year and he's actually Head Boy. I don't know how the hell that worked out but she must have had a boyfriend or a one-night stand or something."

Voldemort stopped breathing. If she has a son who's a seventh year, he has to be seventeen or eighteen years old, conveniently, the same number of years it has been since our little night together. On top of that, I know she hasn't dated anyone but me; I've watched her intently.

He smiled maliciously and brought the tips of his fingers together in front of him. Well, what do you know? I have a son.

"That will be all, Lestrange." The figure said, now very desperate to be alone with his thoughts.

"Thank you, Lord Voldemort." The man said, quickly exiting the room with a heinous screech of the rusty door hinges.

Voldemort grabbed the wineglass again and looked down at his green, scaly friend.

"_A toast to my son and his gorgeous mother._" He mumbled in Parseltounge to the snake who didn't seem too interested, having not understood his conversation with the man who just left. "_May we be blessed with a family reunion_."


	5. Chapter 4: Ailment

_Chapter 4_

"Loomy!" Aidan heard a voice shout out like a fan at a sporting event cheering for their favorite player a few compartments down from where he was standing. He was waiting near the prefect section for some instruction because prior to becoming Head Boy, he had been a prefect and as such, he had to monitor the behavior of his fellow students, starting with the train ride to the school. He was pretty sure he would have to continue with those duties but he decided that since there was no one around to tell him about it, he should respond to the page first.

He walked down the narrow middle aisle of the train, subtly glancing sideways into each glass-door compartment trying to track down the source of the call. Some third year boys to the left, giggling seventh year Hufflepuff girls to the right including a very familiar one Aidan hoped didn't notice him, a group of scared-looking first years to the left, and then on his next right, he found the cause of the outcry.

"How are you here?" asked Bradley Gallager, one of Aidan's roommates. He was leaning back on the seat with his feet propped up on the seat across from him providing him with an air of equanimity and apathy. Bradley was sharing the compartment with Patrick O'Keefe and Brody Craightton, the other seventh year Ravenclaw boys. Aidan considered them to be his friends but the term was used loosely to describe their relationship. Sure, they wrote letters back and forth over the summer but they were usually vague and not too personal. Sure, they invited each other when they were going somewhere but they never really felt the need to see each other outside of school. 'Acquittances' would probably be a more suitable word.

"My mum woke me up so we got here on time."

"Whoa, alert the papers!" Bradley exclaimed jokingly. Aidan smiled briefly. He was closer with Bradley than the other two boys. Bradley was enthusiastic and humorous, qualities Aidan secretly sort of wished he possessed himself. The only downside was, he had a hard time being taken seriously and since most of the other Ravenclaws had calmer personalities, some of them found him mildly annoying, but that didn't seem to stop his popularity among them and every other house for that matter.

"Hey, tell him about, you know." Patrick said, nudging Bradley in the arm. Patrick was like Bradley's side-kick. He wasn't as popular or as good-looking or as funny as Bradley but wherever Bradley went, Patrick was right there with him.

Bradley looked at him confused for a few seconds, trying to remember what news was earth-shatteringly important only a few minutes ago. When it occurred to him, he whipped his uncombed-but-still-neat, russet hair around, knocking off Patrick's glasses as he turned to look back at Aidan.

"Oh man! We just caught a glimpse of Essy in the compartment right in front of ours and the summer must really hate her. It's a good thing you broke up with her early. I pity the guy who marries her." Bradley said, shaking his head.

"Don't be so harsh, Brad." Brody said, looking up from his book. "It's not _that _bad."

Bradley smirked. "Of course you would say that Brody. You've only been lusting after her for a couple years." he said, mocking tugging on one of Brody's dark brown curls. Brody closed his book and hit Bradley's arm with it, glaring at him with his forest green eyes.

"Aw, come on! Brody needs a girlfriend. You don't mind, do you, Loomy?" Bradley asked Aidan who was finding the discussion to be immature and tedious.

"I don't care. She wasn't my type." he said indifferently. Essy had been a demanding and dull girlfriend whose goals in a relationship were to destroy a talented man's potential and gain a pretty slave for herself. She expected him to do things for her and basically worship her every footstep when all he could think about was how she never had anything interesting or intelligent to say and the only time he'd ever want to kiss her was when she was talking so much he'd do anything to shut her up. It's possible that Brody would be a good counterpart to her because he was already devoted to her and he would actually enjoying sitting around listening to her drawl on about this or that.

Brody smiled and opened his book again to hide his glee and pretend to read while planning how he would get Essy to go out with him. As if he hadn't been doing that for the past four years. When she had asked Aidan out last year, he had been crushed but he knew it wouldn't work. Aidan was too intense for someone so blithely content.

"Well, Head Boy, don't you have official duties to go about? Keeping children in line and whatnot?" Bradley asked.

Aidan glanced down the aisle to see a group of prefects and the Head Girl standing together in front of the designated compartment. Although he had always felt so incongruous among them, he had to go join them.

"Yeah." Aidan replied emotionlessly. "I'll see you guys later."

-------------------------------

"Excuse me?" Magdalena said to the girl behind the reception desk, a twenty-something with a bouncy blonde ponytail and tastefully applied make-up. The girl looked up from her fashion magazine and smiled brightly at her with her perfectly-straight pearly whites practically burning Magdalena's retinas when they caught the glare from the sun.

"Yes, how may I help you?" The girl asked, folding her hands and sitting up straight like a dignified debutante.

"I'm here to see Ms. Lumairo." Magdalena said calmly, wondering how someone could have such a perky attitude in such a depressing atmosphere. If I worked here, I'd probably never be able to smile, Magdalena thought, looking down the long corridor with its off-white walls and soiled utility bins. The whole place smelled like a mixture of rubbing alcohol and odor-neutralizers that clearly didn't work too well since the foul stench of feces was still an olfactory component in the dense air.

"Okay. And what is your relationship with Ms. Lumairo?" the secretary asked, searching through a rack of neatly organized, manila folders that contained all the information on the current residents.

"I'm her daughter."

The receptionist found the folder she was looking for and opened it. With one red-manicured finger, she scanned the first paper inside the folder that contained all of the information on Ms. Lumairo that may be needed at a moment's notice.

"Magdalena, is it?" she asked, upon finding her name and phone number listed under the in case of emergency section.

"Yes." Magdalena replied, glancing down the hallway again. She knew where the room was and if it had been any other secretary working today, they would have recognized her immediately and told her to go to the room without needed to verify anything.

"Okay then." the girl said, closing the folder. "You may go down to room 213. Do you know where that is?"

Magdalena nodded. She had only been to room 213 a hundred or so times over the past ten years since her mother was moved there from the hospital.

She walked down the linoleum tiled hall, not allowing her feet to hit the ground too quickly so she could avoid making too much noise. She couldn't help but look inside each room as she passed by. The residents were mostly just sleeping or reading but they all held a vacant, clueless expression that was painful to look at.

"Magdalena, dear, is that you?" Ms. Lumairo asked as her daughter entered the room.

"Yes, it's me mother." she said, walking over to stand beside the bed with its stiff, statically changed sheets and overly plump pillows. Her mother looked leaner than the last time she had seen her and she feared that she was forgetting to eat. Her aged skin was pale and wrinkled and her hair, which was once as dark and long as Magdalena's, had been cut to her shoulders and started white on her forehead but got quickly and progressively darker as you moved along her scalp until you reached the remaining black hair against her neck that was preserving her speck of youth.

"You look great, honey. I bet you'll still look this good when you're thirty-five. What are you going to do for your twenty-third birthday, by the way?" she asked, beaming at her daughter.

"I'm thirty-nine now, mum." Magdalena said, grimly. They have had this conversation many times before with only slight variations.

"Oh my! Well, how are you?" the older woman asked, accepting the information that her daughter had told her without even a thought to question it.

"I'm fine. I dropped off your grandson at the train station today. He's starting his seventh year and he's Head Boy now."

"I have a grandson?" Ms. Lumairo asked, her gray brows furrowed in confusion. "Have I met him?"

Magdalena nodded. "Many times." she said.

"What's his name? What house is he in?" the elderly woman asked avidly.

"His name is Aidan and he's in Ravenclaw, just like his mother and grandmother."

The woman smiled and closed her eyes. "That's nice," she murmured distantly. "I'd like to meet him again." she told her daughter.

"I'll bring him around the next time he comes home." Magdalena promised.

"Good. Have you heard from your father lately?"

Magdalena involuntarily twitched at the mention of her father. He hadn't sent a letter or made a phone call to her in over fifteen years. In fact, the last time she remembered talking to him had been because of her. She had called him to tell him about what had happened to his ex-wife and his response was something dismissive like, "Oh well. That's just what happens to _you_ _people_." Magdalena had called him a heartless bastard and slammed the receiver down onto the cradle so hard that it fell off the table and woke up little Aidan who had been asleep in his crib.

"Would you like to sleep now, mum?" she asked, changing the subject so she wouldn't have to get back into why her father deserved to go to hell and never speak to them again. She knew her mother's condition tired her easily even though she remembered her grandparents when they were her mother's age, still as vivacious as ever. It saddened her to think that one brave act of protection on her mother's part had lead her to age so prematurely.

"Not yet. Do you think you could read the paper to me?" she asked, gesturing to the most recent issue of _The Daily Prophet_ on her nightstand, her inquiry about her ex-husband completely forgotten.

Magdalena grabbed the paper and read the headline out loud to her mother.

"'Muggle-born shopkeeper murdered.'"

Magdalena stopped curiously. Every time she had to read about a muggle-born witch or wizard being harmed or murdered, she wondered if Tom had anything to do with it. She always had a feeling that he did.

"'The owner of Barney's Brooms was found dead in his backroom office two days ago when his clerk had come into work that morning...lack of evidence hints that he was murdered by way of the killing curse...the strange figure who calls himself Lord Voldemort is suspected to be the culprit of this monstrous crime...he's suspected to be the next Grindelwald...'"

Magdalena stopped reading when she realized that her mother had fallen asleep. It's a good thing she doesn't remember the accident either, Magdalena thought to herself. She carefully folder the paper up and put it on her nightstand next to a glass of water and some experimental memory pills they were going to put her on. She kissed her ailing mother on the cheek and left the treatment facility to head back to her empty home.


	6. Chapter 5: Houses

_Chapter 5_

The Great Hall was, as could be expected, elaborately decorated to commemorate the first day of a new school year. Tall, white candles floated overhead near the high, sky-patterned ceiling, projecting the room with a luminescent glow strategically placed above each of the four long tables for each house to sit at. Along the front of the room, all of Hogwarts' professors sat sedately in their majestic, carved throne-like chairs, patiently waiting for the students to stop chatting away about their various summer developments so they could begin the all-important Sorting Hat ceremony.

Standing in a line along the left hand wall were all the first years anxiously awaiting the beginning of the ceremony. Most of them were afraid to make eye contact with their older schoolmates so they alternatively stared at their shoes or picked lint of their robes to try to appear occupied and nonchalant while internally trying to calm their racing heartbeats.

Every year when Aidan witnessed those fearful, barely pubescent children, it would remind him of his own unusual experience with the legendary hat six years ago, an experience no one will soon forget.

Magdalena had told him everything he needed to know about being sorted before he had even set foot on platform nine and three-quarters so he was a lot more at ease than the other students in line, a personality trait many envied about him. There's no shame in saying that he stuck out in the long line of first years, standing up straight and thoroughly confident that he would be put in Ravenclaw like his mother, grandmother and almost all of his family before them. At his old school, he had always gotten good grades and sweet, little comments from his teachers that said things like, "wonderfully motivated and hardworking," "polite and respectful," and "quiet and very well-behaved" so at the very recently turned, ripe old age of twelve, he was sure that he was the archetype of a Ravenclaw. Magdalena told him that when she was sorted, the hat knew where to place her after only about five seconds so Aidan was expecting a similar reaction when he stepped up to the wooden stool in front of all the other students.

But a strange thing happened when the hat was placed on his head. At first the hat made a lot of, "hmm," sounds as if he found Aidan's personality to be unlike any other child's before him and swayed back and forth, mumbling incoherently to itself whenever it found something interesting in Aidan's complex mind. Then, as if struck by a bolt of lightning, the hat stood tall on his head and made the shocking declaration that he could be placed in any house and succeed. The buzz among the tables heightened as the students wondered who would get this boy in their house. Was he some sort of jack of all trades? Could he be beneficial in winning the house cup as a result? Does he play Quidditch?

The Sorting Hat started a deeper analysis into Aidan's mind, ruling out the idea of putting him in Hufflepuff instantaneously, telling him that although he does have a sense of loyalty to those few he holds close, he is way too impatient and would get bored and frustrated being with them, information he should have considered before agreeing to go out on a date with the dictatorial and sapless Essy.

Gryffindor was the next off the list because although he can be brave, the hat thought that Ravenclaw and Slytherin were more suitable with his personality. Aidan had a been a bit confused by the statement since his mother had told him that Slytherin was most known as the house that turned out the most dark wizards. Aidan had never really thought of himself as evil in any form, nor did he consider any Slytherins that he had met later on in his schooling to possess any bit of malice that could fester into the destructive act of black magic.

While Aidan contemplated the outrageous statement, the hat spent a good ten minutes pondering which of the two remaining houses Aidan should be placed in. The students all sat on the edges of their seats in anticipation for an answer while the faculty members were annoyed that they could do nothing to speed up the decision albeit intrigued since it had never taken the Sorting Hat so long to place a student before.

Finally, the Sorting Hat shouted out, "Ravenclaw" causing half the table to give a standing ovation to this peculiar boy and the other half to give slow, estranged claps at the boy who was almost put in Slytherin but by some chance had ended up as one of them.

The oddest thing about the experience, however, occurred right before Aidan could take his seat at his newly chose table. The Sorting Hat told him quietly so none of the other students could hear, "You have been placed on a good path. Don't allow temptation to veer you from it."

He wasn't sure what the hat meant by the remark and after all these years have passed he still didn't know but he had taken it on himself to conclude that he had stayed true to the hat's final comment and that was good enough for him.

Postures straightened as the sorting ceremony started and the first name thundered through the hall like a storm to wake the sleeping. Aidan always marveled at how quickly the ceremony moved in comparison to when he had been sorted. A frizzy-haired girl to Hufflepuff, a short boy to Gryffindor, a grinning boy to Slytherin, the formula was always so repetitive.

Tiring quickly of watching the ceremony, Aidan's started to look around the room for familiar faces, primarily focusing on the Slytherin table. Chad shot him a smile and Aidan nodded back at him still wondering what would have happened if he had been a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw. Would he have more friends like Chad and less like Bradley? Would he have stuck out like a sour thumb or would he have mixed in like a missing ingredient? I guess there's no way for me to know now, he thought to himself.

His beguiled eyes followed down the Slytherin table past people whose faces he vaguely recalled from class until they landed on a girl who he had never noticed before. She had softly curled strawberry-blond hair and eyes that were so dark, it was next to impossible to tell where her iris ended and her pupil started unless you were staring directly at her. Her lips were carefully lined and painted a dark red that was seductive without being cliche and her skin resembled that of a porcelain doll, pale but with a rosy hue to her cheeks that made her look delicate and vivacious, especially in comparison to Aidan's own lifeless, chalk-white skin.

The doll-like girl noticed Aidan staring at her and her dark lips curled into a mischievous grin. Aidan casually ran his fingers through his black hair, a gesture he always hoped looked appealing to others even though he had no clue whether or not it was, and allowed his own naturally-red lips to smile back, unbeknownst to him that Chad was watching their interaction intently with an idea stewing in the recesses of his mind.

Aidan will have to come to the club this year.

-------------------------

He stood in front of the aged, wooden bookcase and scratched his head with one of his yellowed, talon-like fingernails, deep in thought. His eyes, red both by lack of sleep and physical mutilation, scanned the leather bindings on the first editions lined up neatly on the shelf. He found it to be quite contradictory to keep his most valuable and useful spellbooks in a bookcase that was covered in dust and appeared to be harboring entirely new species of fungus, but since this was his hide-out, he figured that he would just have to make do with the neglected antiques in the house.

With one long finger, he reached up and traced a line over the spine of each book as if this would somehow make the discovery process faster. Suddenly the finger stopped moving on one book that was slightly thicker than the rest with a red leather cover and gold embossed writing.

He extracted the book from its place on the shelf and started flipping through the pages so quickly that his mind barely had time to take in every page heading as it whizzed by him and landed on the page before it. He knew what he was looking for; he just had to make sure it was still there.

The snake that had been asleep in the corner awoke and started hissing at his master, demanding food. The man sneered at him and told his pet that he was busy and that it should stop being lazy and find nourishment on its own. It shouldn't be too hard for the creature; one look and the unfortunate prey is instantly dead.

The snake left vehemently and the man went back to page-turning until he came upon what he had been looking for. His eyes widened in delight and his lips curled into a smirk he so often displayed when he succeeded. The ingredient list was simple, or at least would be simple once he dealt out the task of tracking down the components to his followers. And there would be no reason or necessity to tell them why he needed them either.

He pulled out his wand and bookmarked the page before he left the room. He had business to go about but he would start with the concoction when he gets back.

A physical appearance altering potion.


	7. Chapter 6: Letters

_Chapter 6_

Magdalena leaned back in her comfy, cushioned chair at the kitchen table and propped her feet up on the chair across from her. A cool breeze blew in through the open window over the chrome-colored sink and she was reminded why autumn was such a wonderful season. As much as she didn't like waking up, there was something about fall mornings that she responded to. Looking out over the frost-tipped blades of grass, then gazing up at the sun barely streaming through the dense fog; truly this was the only kind of morning she could love to wake up to.

She took a slow, cautious sip from her teacup, allowing the liquid to cool in her mouth before swallowing to avoid burning her throat. She then adjusted her thin black-rimmed reading glasses and grasped the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_ in her hands, scanning the front page for any intriguing titles. Why do I even read the paper, Magdalena thought to herself. There is never any good news in this day and age.

As she began studying an article on a recent failed attack on a muggle-born, a small owl with three letters clasped tightly in its beak flew through the window and landed on the table next to Magdalena's navy-blue, silk-robed arm. She had noticed the bird fly in using her strikingly good peripheral vision but she didn't look up from the news.

The bird impatiently nudged her arm with its head in an effort to redirect her attention towards the letters but she refused to tear her eyes away from the galvanizing report.

"That's fine, Apollo. Just leave the letters on the table and I'll get to them." she said dismissively.

The bird tilted its head at her and then pushed her arm again. It knew that one of the letters was urgent and required an immediate reply. Magdalena made a hand gesture as if to shoo away the bird but it still wouldn't listen. The tenacious, little owl flew up from the table, making her believe it was leaving but instead attacked her ponytail, nipping at the black strands until she stood up and yelled, "All right! All right! I'll read them now!"

The bird flew down and perched itself on the edge of her kitchen counter, watching her raptly. She gracefully sat down and glared at the bird.

"I would have thought Athena would have raised you better. Have at least a little self-control."

Apollo gave Magdalena an innocent look and she rolled her eyes. Truthfully, she missed Athena. She had been a much more considerate and efficient owl than Apollo but after she died, what choice did she have but to take her son under her wing? So to speak.

Turning back to the pile of letters, Magdalena reached for the first one, recognizing Aidan's neat handwriting and red ink. It was the first letter he had written to her since he started school two weeks ago. She wasn't upset that it had taken him so long though; he was a seventh year now and would be out in the world on his own soon. He needed his mother less now as much as she hated to admit it. She smiled and put the letter aside, saving the best for last.

The next letter was from the Ministry of Magic, a note to invite her to a banquet that was going to be held in honor of the wizards and witches who had contributed their time and brains to the most recent advances in potions. She was to be the most honored guest. Magdalena didn't even stand up to look at her schedule before checking off the appropriate boxes on the RSVP form. As much as she disliked banquets, the praise made her humbled and the food was always unidentifiable, she was never busy. She had work and, while Aidan was at school, that was all she had.

The last letter, addressed to Ms. Magdalena Lumairo, was the heaviest. She picked it up and flipped it over to see a large picture of the Hogwarts emblem printed on the envelope. Why do I have a letter from Hogwarts, she wondered. Is there something going on with Aidan?

She grabbed the gold letter opener off the table and tore into the envelope to extract the many papers inside. The topmost one was on official Hogwarts stationary, displaying the same design in the top right-hand corner. It read:

_Dear Ms. Magdalena Lumairo,_

_It has been recently brought to my attention that Hogwarts' current potions professor, Horace Slughorn, will be unable to teach from October first until January of next year due to personal problems that must be dealt with from now until that time. Because of this, we are in need of a new temporary professor to teach until Mr. Slughorn can reassume his position._

_When finding a replacement became the task at hand, I was reminded that you applied for the job of potions professor years ago when Mr. Slughorn was contemplating leaving for another job but had to turn it down due to your job working in the Ministry of Magic's potions research department. That is why I have contacted you so irregularly. I have heard of your most current accomplishments and would be honored if you would take time away from the Ministry to help out your old alma mater and assume the job until Mr. Slughorn's return. The school will provide you with on-campus housing away from the castle and we will try our best to match your current salary._

_Thank you for your time and we hope you will accept. _

_- Professor Armando Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Magdalena leaned back further in her chair to the point where she was balancing on only the back legs. She reread the letter and then glanced up at Apollo who looked like he was reading her mind by the way he was bobbing his head up and down, telling her to say yes.

She leaned forward and the front legs of the chair slammed down on the tiled floor so loudly Apollo took off like a bullet down the hallway to get away from the noise. I'll do it, she thought. This will give me a chance to test my teaching skills and be closer to my son while he's slowly slipping away. This is an opportunity I've been waiting for and if things don't go well, at least it will be an experience.

----------------------------------

Aidan walked down the stairs of the Astronomy Tower in a trance-like state with the intention of going back to his dorm and going to bed. He liked to clandestinely sneak up to the tower every now and then to get some privacy from his roommates and look at the stars, something he would never admit due to the sure to arise jokes regarding his masculinity. In truth, he found it calming although most would say that he appeared calm enough as it is, but looks can certainly be deceiving. On the inside, he was usually a mess with his mind working at a rate of a million thoughts an hour, his most common ones revolving around schoolwork, his classmates, the state of the world, and whatever book he was currently engrossed in. Lately, new thoughts had come to mind regarding his father and the doll-girl.

He had never really taken an initiative to finding out who exactly contributed half of his genes but it was getting to the point where he couldn't go on ignorant on the matter. He knew there had to be a way to find out. While his mother had no long-term boyfriends to speak of or be spoken of by her friends, he knew that he had been fathered by someone she cared about. He could tell by the look in her eye whenever someone mentioned the faceless paternal figure that it hadn't been some random alley rape like everyone assumed it was. By establishing this fact, Aidan decided that the place to start looking would be Hogwarts, for the sake of convenience but also because he knew that when his mother was twenty-one, she was working at the Ministry but was still closely tied with her friends from Hogwarts. She had to have met his father in one of those two places.

Aside from planning his investigation into his bloodline, Aidan's thoughts were also being monopolized by the doll-girl. She wasn't in his classes so she had to be younger than him but judging by her face which was mature in spite of the delicate qualities that are often considered youthful, she was probably only a year younger than him. Since the beginning of the year ceremony he had only seen her once briefly in passing. She had given him the same almost sapient smile before she was dragged off by her friends. It was torturous how badly he wished to see her, talk to her, get to know her. Especially when he knew his chances were drastically restrained.

"Looom-air-oooo!" A deep voice bellowed from the opposite side of the hallway he was standing in. God, Aidan thought grumpily, he's going to wake up the whole damn school. And it's practically curfew too.

Chad clapped Aidan on the back nearly knocking the wind out of his thin frame.

"What are you doing right now, man?" Chad asked, leaning into his ear like he was about to divulge some top secret information.

"I was going back to my room. Why? What's up?" Aidan asked, torn between interest to see what Chad was getting at and the desire to go to bed and not get in trouble. He was Head Boy. He had responsibilities and a spotless reputation to uphold.

"Well," Chad started, grinning like he just found a mint-condition porno on the street, "this club I'm in is having a meeting right now and you should come. Seriously, you'd fit in perfectly."

"I'm not a big fan of clubs. What kind of club is it?" Aidan asked to be polite even though he was picturing a bunch of half-wits playing pranks on people and complaining about the professors. Not his cup of tea.

"A magic club. We study different kinds of magic, the kinds they leave out of our regular lessons." he said with a touch of pride like he was some kind of pundit of the art.

Aidan was suddenly struck with curiosity. Studying magic? That actually sounds like a worthwhile way to spend an evening no matter when he should be in bed. I'm not quite sure what he means by different kinds, but what does that matter? He concluded that it really didn't.

"Okay. Let's go." Aidan said.

"Oh, you won't be sorry!" Chad exclaimed, waving him down a small hallway that Aidan could swear wasn't there a minute ago.

I guess even if things turn out bad from me going, at least it will be an experience.


	8. Chapter 7: Cauldron

_Chapter 7_

Chad lead Aidan down a side hallway that would give a claustrophobic nightmares for the rest of their life, so narrow that while lean Aidan had no problem fitting in the cramped quarters, muscular Chad had to turn on his side in order to fit.

"This hallway is a real pain in the arse." Chad said as they walked. "We just like privacy while we have our meetings. And no teachers come down here so we've never gotten caught."

Aidan nodded and continued walking with his shoulders pulled inwards to avoid touching anything. He could see why no one would want to come down here unless they had to. Aside from the fact that the hall was so narrow, it appeared to have all sorts of fungus growing on the stone walls that had clearly been laid when the school was built and had never been renovated. The ceiling was practically dripping in cobwebs with abnormally large spiders setting up camp among them. The cement floor was cracked and damp but there were no signs of how it could have possibly gotten that way. Aidan assumed it had to do with the plumbing or it wasn't water at all. He tried to ignore it.

Down at the end of the tunnel, Aidan could see an old wooden door with a faint, orange light coming out from under the door. A cacophony of voices could be heard coming from behind it. Chad put his hand on the aged, rust-colored doorknob and grinned at Aidan.

"You ready?" he asked, as if he was going to make a big reveal. Aidan nodded unenthusiastically even though he was secretly very curious.

Chad dramatically pushed the door aside to reveal a dingy and dank but surprisingly large room with the same stone walls and cracked - but dry- floor as the hallway that brought them there. The room was crawling with about twenty students of various ages who were mostly standing around chatting in small groups. A few people looked up at them and then looked away quickly to get back to their conversations. There were cobweb-adorned candelabra scattered around the perimeter of the room with dripping, white candles in them to make it easier to see around the room and simultaneously creating an intimate, orange glow. In the center, there was a large cauldron suspended over a blazing fire, cooking whatever was inside. Steam rose out of the cauldron and over the heads of the students who Aidan noticed were all wearing green and silver Slytherin robes. He suddenly felt out of place, a feeling he was well acquainted with.

Instantly his feelings diminished once he caught a glimpse of the doll-girl, standing in the far corner talking to a girl with short brown hair. She smiled in the direction of the door, flashing her small white teeth at him that were framed in dark red. He couldn't help but smirk at her.

Chad elbowed Aidan in the rib pointedly. "Ah, found something you like, huh?" he said, looking at the girl. "She's a hot one. Her name's Bianca and she's a sixth year. Just thought you'd like to know."

Aidan ignored Chad and watched the girl, Bianca, as she dismissed her friend and started to gracefully glide over to Aidan, her strawberry-blonde curls swaying gently back and forth behind her.

"Hey, Chad. Who's your friend?" she asked smoothly. Although Aidan had expected her voice to be child-like and high-pitched based on her delicate appearance, it wasn't at all. It was a mature voice, more sultry than sweet, containing an impish hint that kept her sounding youthful. He was surprised that he found this comforting.

"This is Aidan. Aidan, this is Bianca." Chad said, motioning to them as he said their names as if they might not know who he was referring to. Aidan had a passing thought to offer her his hand but decided against it as they stood still, smirking at each other.

Chad looked from Bianca to Aidan, their concentration on each other not breaking for even a millisecond, so with an eloquent, "Um, yeah," he left them alone to go talk to some of his buddies.

"So, you're a Ravenclaw?" Bianca said, phrasing it as a question even though she wasn't expecting an answer. Her milky-ivory fingers floated up to his blue Ravenclaw tie and traced the silky edge of it slowly as if fascinated to be so close to one. She was near enough to Aidan so that he could actually see her pupil hidden inside the ring of that very dark, almost black, shade of brown. "You're the first Ravenclaw to come to one of our meetings." she said, matter-of-factly, in spite of the fact that the other Slytherins seemed to think it was blasphemy to have him there.

Aidan remained calm even though his mind was filling with questions. "What do you do in this club?" he asked cooly, his hand intentionally brushing against her hand that was still by her side, his index finger briefly playing with hers. Bianca took the hint and laced her fingers through his. He had expected her to feel warm but her hands were actually quite cold.

"Oh, Chad didn't fill you in?" she asked, more like she was pretending to be innocent than pretending to be surprised. "We experiment with magic, all types of magic, even kinds that aren't allowed in school." She murmured into his ear like she was afraid of someone overhearing, as she ran her finger over his Head Boy badge like a subtle hint not to tell on them.

Bianca led Aidan through the room, pointing out members and giving miniature biographies on them.

"See that girl sitting by herself?" Bianca asked, pointing to a disheveled looking girl holding a book in front of her face. "That's Radella Lestrange, or as she's more commonly known, 'Radella the Strange'. She doesn't do much except sit there and spy on us. She has two older brothers named, I think, Rabastian and Rodolphus, who graduated not long ago. They're actually normal." Aidan looked over at the girl, who had been peeking at him over the edge of her book. She hid her face behind it again.

"Oh, that guy over there." Bianca pointed to a brunette with a cocky grin. "That's Daniel. He always asks me out. He just can't understand that I don't want to go out with him. You'll protect me from him, right?" she asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Yeah, of course." Aidan replied, surprised by his own determination.

After Bianca's intro to the club, they stopped walking and ended up standing over the cauldron in the center of the room. The pale green, viscous liquid inside was bubbling a bit but not enough for it to spill over the side. Students around the room took notice of the newcomer standing by the cauldron and they started to crowd around the large, black pot, inquisitive looks on their usually harshly stoic faces.

"Make an offering." Bianca whispered to Aidan, giving his hand a squeeze. Aidan looked at her confused. What kind of offering am I supposed to make, he wondered. Is this some kind of religious ritual? Isn't polytheism sort of archaic? I thought this was a magic club.

To demonstrate what she meant, Bianca plucked a strand of hair from her head and dropped it into the cauldron. It bubbled violently, dissolving the hair into nothing. The Slytherins watched it until it faded away and then looked over at Aidan.

Following suit, he pulled a piece of jet-black hair from his head and dropped it into the fluid, expecting it to do the same thing it had done in response to Bianca's hair. The concoction bubbled viciously, almost consuming the hair instantaneously. Bianca leaned against him and said quietly, "'Aidan' means 'fire', you know?"

Amazingly, the liquid started to change from a pale, sea foam green to black, starting from where the hair had once been and spanning out until the difference between the color of the cauldron and the color of the potion was not longer visible. Slowly, the members of the club started to lift their heads up from the pot to gaze astonished at Aidan. After a solid minute of silence, chatter started to break out amongst the members.

"He has it."

"But he's a Ravenclaw."

"Who brought him here?"

"I think Harman did."

"How is this possible?"

Bianca held onto his arm tightly, almost possessively. Chad stared silently at the floor with his hand under his chin like he was deep in thought, his dirty blonde hair masking a complacent smile.

"What's wrong?" Aidan asked Bianca. He had caused quite an uproar and he had only come to the meeting in the first place to observe. Was he tainted or something for changing the potion? Were the afraid of him now?

Bianca grinned. "Nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is great." She let go of his arm and looked seriously up into his dark eyes that were very close in color to her own. "Aren't you going to ask me out?" she asked, faking coyness.

"Um, tomorrow . . . seven . . . at the library?" Aidan chocked out. He was having a hard time paying attention to the fact that Bianca was ruthlessly hitting on him when no one was explaining the meaning behind his hair changing the potion. He'd cheer for himself and pat himself on the back later once he had some answers.

"See you then." she said, kissing him on the cheek before she left the room. He reached up to touch the place her lips had been, finding no lipstick but feeling a strange chill where her mouth had pressed against his skin. It was then Aidan realized that everyone was leaving. Chad put his arm around Aidan shoulders as he walked towards the door.

"Dude, you got a date, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yeah." he said quickly. "What was with the potion?" Aidan asked, hoping that Chad would at least be honest. But then again, Chad didn't even really explain the club to him in the first place.

"All in good time, my friend." Chad said, being equally as cryptic as Bianca as he led Aidan back down the narrow hallway. "You should definitely come to the next meeting though."

-------------------------

"Good mornin' Maga-da-lena!"

She turned away from the book she was using for some brief historical research and looked over her shoulder. Standing in the doorway was her assistant, Liam, 5'9" and gangly with shaggy red hair that he was always trying to push away from his eyes while he was working. He was about twenty-nine, very cheerful, and completely content with being second in command to her since he was a bit of a klutz and he was sure that if he were to be promoted to run an entire operation, something would end up blowing up or being burned down.

"Morning Liam." Magdalena said, putting down the book and running through her supply checklist. "Hey, didn't you have a hot date yesterday with that intern from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department?" she asked with a smile.

Liam's face fell into a dejected look of despair.

"Uh-oh," she mused. "What happened?"

Liam sighed and walked over to the uniform closet, pulling out his Ministry of Magic robes and putting them on as he talked.

"She was pretty dull. I think at one point I was counting the floor tiles in the restaurant. And she had all these weird habits like randomly talking to me in a little kid voice for no reason at all and playing with her eyelashes. It was one of the strangest dates I've ever been on."

Magdalena shrugged. "Well, I guess that's what you get for going out with someone who's barely legal."

Liam looked offended. "Hey, she's twenty-one!"

"But apparently has the mentality of a seven year old." Magdalena said, finishing her checklist and picking up her research material again.

Liam leaned against the main work table with his head resting on his chin and sighed. "Why are there no good women, Maga?"

She gave him a 'how should I know' look and kept reading as she started to walk around the room without looking up from the book.

"Can I ask you something, Maga?" Liam wondered still looking wistful.

"Sure." she answered, not paying attention as much as she should.

"Why isn't a woman like you married?"

Magdalena couldn't help but laugh. This wasn't the first time Liam had said something like that to her but he always made sure to say it in a friendly way and not like he was hitting on her.

"It's very complicated. And I'm too old now." she said vaguely. "Now you need to stop mulling over women and familiarize yourself with the task at hand because I am taking a break from work for a while."

Liam looked scared. "What! Why are you leaving?"

"I'm not leaving permanently but from October 1st to early January I'm going to be teaching potions at Hogwarts, where my son goes. Therefore, you are going to have to take my place for a while. Don't worry. I've already worked it out so that other people will be supervising you just in case." _You end up almost killing yourself_, she mentally added. "But for now you must read up."

"Read up on what?" he asked, standing up straight. Magdalena went over to the back table and tossed a newspaper that had been placed on it to him. The headline from yesterday told of the failed attack on a muggle-born, thought to be perpetrated by Voldemort.

"Oh, this creeps me out." Liam said, skimming the article. "You a muggle-born, Maga?"

"No. Half-blood. Are you?"

Liam nodded, fear evident in his eyes. Magdalena suddenly felt horrible for leaving the research on this case up to him and worried for his sake.

"I'm sorry. Will you be able to do this?" she asked sympathetically, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded uneasily. "Yes, I can do it. Don't worry about it." He said with a bright smile. "By the time you get back, we'll have made every potion possible to get this guy and take him down!" He thrust his fist in the air triumphantly and Magdalena laughed.

"At least I know this work is in able hands."


	9. Chapter 8: Date

_Chapter 8_

Aidan walked into the library promptly at seven, pulling his black pin-striped blazer tightly around his thin waist. The library was definitely the coldest part of the castle which he knew very well, due to the many times a week he would go there to take out books or to do homework. October was fast-approaching and although he favored autumn and winter to the warmer seasons, he had a tendency to absorb the cold like no one else. He was somewhat nullified to the sensation but he still made a few vain attempts to not turn into a walking icicle.

Cold absorption must be a quality I got from my father, Aidan thought to himself as he surveyed the kids sitting at the long tables working on their homework. Mum is always warm, even in the dead of winter.

Aidan chuckled silently to himself. Since he had firmly decided on searching for his father, he started to separate his traits and characteristics into those that came from his mother and those that must have come from his father, from things that may be helpful in his searching, like his dark brown eyes, to things that probably mean nothing, like how his body responds to the cold.

It was then that it dawned upon him that he and Bianca hadn't picked an actual place inside the library to meet. He assumed she would wait by the door or sit down at one of the tables but she was nowhere within his eyeshot and he was sure he would be able to pick her out easily among the crowd.

Deciding that she just hadn't shown up yet, he walked towards the section of the library that was set aside to track the genealogy of wizard families, hoping that he would somehow find something that could be beneficial to his paternity search. He opened up a leather-bound book with an L on the binding and found the Lumairos: a long history of Ravenclaws, careers usually set in research of some sort, a couple family members who were so private they were practically recluses. Aidan laughed out loud when he saw that he actually had a crazy great, great-aunt who was the only Lumairo ever placed in Hufflepuff but, as it turned out, was actually the most skilled Seer of her time.

So maybe that explains why for a fleeting second the Sorting Hat had considered placing me in Hufflepuff, Aidan considered. On top of that, mum always seems to be having dreams that could potentially predict the future. She was always good with tarot cards too. Maybe I could do those things too. Aidan hadn't taken divination so he had never actually tried some of the more mystical arts of magic. Maybe it's worth a shot, he thought. At least this does prove something, he concluded. My father couldn't have been a Hufflepuff. Otherwise, the sorting hat would have considered putting me there a lot longer than it did. In fact, if I go along with that way of thinking, it would make sense if my father was a Slytherin since I was almost put there. The only thing that doesn't work is the fact that my mum seems to have an extremely strong aversion towards Slytherins. How would she end up dating one? Why?

"Guess who," purred a sultry voice in Aidan's right ear as two slender, short-fingered hands curled over his eyes.

"Hm, I wonder." Aidan joked, tilting his head to the side like he was contemplating all his options. "Is this Tina from last night?" he asked huskily.

"Nope." Bianca murmured, moving her hands away and gliding around to stand in front of him. "It's me." She said smirking with her burgundy lips. "I guess you'll just have to dump Tina."

Aidan snapped his fingers and smiled at her, glad that she had gotten the joke. If he had said that kind of thing to Essy, she would have slapped him shamelessly.

"So what are you reading?" Bianca asked, moving next to him so she could read. Her loose, strawberry-blonde curls draped over her bare, creamy shoulders, providing the only warmth she could attain in the frigid room and her exposed knees were shaking subtly. She leaned against Aidan, partially to entice and partially because she was freezing.

"I'm just looking up my family history." He said, pointing to the heading that said 'Lumairo' in elaborate Old English script. "What's your last name? I could find your family." He suggested, shutting the book and putting it back on the shelf.

"Sarin. S-A-R-I-N with a short A sound." Bianca said, almost rolling the r like she was Spanish. She knelt down and pulled out the book with an S on the spine and quickly flipped through it until she came to her family.

She cleared her throat dramatically and glanced up at Aidan, who was listening intently. "'The Sarin family: predominantly Slytherin with a few rare Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws usually coming from marriages between members of the Sarin family and other wizards placed in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The Sarin family members are known for being sociable and friendly people who usually find employment as shopkeepers or Ministry secretaries and workers.'" She paused for a minute before speaking again. "And then it just goes on to trace the actual bloodlines." She said, shutting the book quickly and placing it back on the shelf. Aidan couldn't help but wonder if there was something in there that she didn't want him to see.

Bianca slowly stood up, trembling violently as she clutched her forearms tightly in a feeble attempt to warm them up.

"It's absolutely _freezing_!" she exclaimed loudly. Faint shushes echoed from the opposite side of the library.

Aidan casually slipped out of his blazer and placed it on her thin, bare shoulders. The jacket fell past her knees because of their drastic height difference but the length only helped to warm her. She gripped the sides to pull it around her bony frame and smiled at him.

"I guess you don't come here often, huh?" Aidan said to Bianca, rubbing her arms through the fabric of the blazer to try to warm her up. Her rosey cheeks were red and glossy with chill as her little body moved closer to him.

"No. I don't read very much and I have a tendency to not do my homework." She said, grinning a little proud and a little embarrassed since clearly Aidan came there a lot.

Aidan shrugged. "To each his own."

Pleased that he didn't mind, she decided that she should make a change in scenery. He may like books and cold quiet but I bet there's something more exciting we can do that he would enjoy, she thought sneakily.

"Hey, Aidan, do you want to go do something else?" she asked, giving him a playful nudge in his arm.

Aidan had been expecting her to say that. She had just admitted to not liking books so she clearly would want to get out of the library. What is her idea of fun, Aidan wondered as he eagerly nodded to her in curiosity.

She extended her hand to him and led him out of the library past the studying students who glowered at Bianca, knowing that she was the one being loud and disrupting their homework. Blissfully ignorant, they exited the library and she walked right out of the nearest door.

"Where exactly are we going?" Aidan asked as they skirted around the dark, rolling grounds. The grass was soft, like a blanket of silk, and Aidan could imagine lying down with Bianca and staring at the full moon which was shining down on the pond, highlighting the small ripples created by its various aquatic creatures. No one was outside as far as he could tell.

"Swimming." She said happily, handing him his blazer as they came to the edge of the pond. As far as they could see, with really only the moon to provide light, underneath the shallow water lay nothing but sand.

Swimming in what, Aidan thought to himself. The lake wasn't exactly the prime spot for a good, _safe_ late night swim, not to mention the fact that neither of them had any attire on that even came close to resembling swim-wear.

His curiosities, and other thoughts for that matter, came to a screeching halt when he glanced at Bianca and saw her lifting her v-necked top over her head and dropping it on the ground. She was wearing a different tank top underneath that was tight and seemed to be made of a stretch material similar to that of bathing suits. Aidan wondered if she had planned this long before she showed up at the library.

"You're not going to go swimming in your clothes, are you?" Bianca asked, smiling.

"No, no." Aidan replied quickly. His nimble fingers went to work at unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the ground beside Bianca's shirt and his blazer. Bianca gave him a quick once-over, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his bare chest, and took off her skirt looking very satisfied.

Aidan smirked as he watched her strip down to her underwear and the tank top and then charge into the pond without any warning. When she was up to her waist in water, she let loose a blood-curdling scream.

"It's cold!" she squealed, flailing her arms about and shivering. Aidan laughed, as he took off his pants and ran in after her.

------------------------------

The steam above the cauldron rose up towards the full moon, past the aged headstones and effigies. It was half full with an incomplete potion cooking over a small fire in the middle of the graveyard. It emanated the faint aroma of dirty gym socks and was the bright red color of unoxygenated blood. Of course, it still needed to be cooked for a straight month before it would be ready to use but Voldemort figured that was the perfect amount of time. It should be complete by October twentieth, ten days before he intended to use it.

"Cook outside for a month starting on the full moon . . . if it bubbles you should move the cauldron further from the fire . . . the potion will last one year before expiration." He said to himself as he stirred the mixture.

"And on Magdalena's birthday, she will get one hell of a surprise." He mused, dipping his finger in the boiling liquid. "I always wondered what I would look like without those horcruxes."

-------------------

Magdalena's bed was no longer visible as she stared at the enormous pile of clothes in confusion. She wasn't quite sure how much she should bring. She guessed that she would be living on the Hogwarts campus until late December when she and Aidan would go home for Christmas. Then when they would go back, she would only need enough for two weeks at the most.

When she actually gets to the castle, she was going to have a four day 'training session' before she would start teaching. Magdalena was excited but painfully nervous. She had never taught kids before, unless you count the mom skills she acquired with Aidan's birth. As head of the potions research department, she had trained numerous people but they were all over the age of eighteen. What if she couldn't control the kids? What if they didn't like her? What if they didn't understand it? There are so many possibilities, it's frightening.

Not to mention the fact that Aidan had no clue she was coming.


	10. Chapter 9: Roommates

_Chapter 9_

He stared down at the yellowed roll of parchment with disgust and an unreasonable amount of hatred toward something that had never directly done anything malicious to him. Maybe if he stared hard enough, his study of ancient runes essay would magically appear. It's possible isn't it? Am I special but just not that special, Aidan wondered half bitterly and half comically.

He lifted his elbow off his desk and the paper rolled up into a scroll. He gritted his teeth in aggravation, unrolled it again, and wrote his name in the top left hand corner, the long, gray feather on his quill tickling his chin because he was sitting so close.

Maybe I have chosen too heavy a workload, Aidan contemplated as he started to tap the tip of the quill in the corner of the roll, causing red ink to come out a little bit every time the metal tip and the parchment made contact. He was taking defense against the dark arts, charms, transfiguration, astronomy, study of ancient runes, potions, and herbology which he really only decided to take for another year because it sometimes correlated with potions. He was seriously considering dropping it for a third year's beginner's course in divination but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do that. The near perfect scores on his OWLS should mean that he could have graduated already but he wasn't about to complain. He enjoyed learning; it was the homework he detested.

"Could you please stop tapping? It's really hard to concentrate when you do that." said Brody, who was sitting on his bed with a book that clearly wasn't for school in his hands and his dark brown, curly mop of hair covering more than seventy percent of his face.

Aidan looked down at his parchment and saw a large red splotch that resembled a blood stain marring his essay. His quill had run out of ink long ago but he hadn't noticed.

"Sure." he said, almost patronizingly. He was hoping he would have the dorm to himself but anti-social Brody just couldn't get out and face whatever event was keeping Bradley and Patrick away. Aidan had also been hoping that Brody would somehow woo Essy and become her new slave, er, boyfriend and have less time to brood in the dorm with his countless amount of books but his insurmountable shyness had become a social hindrance to him in every way.

"Have you finished the charms paper yet?" Aidan asked, expecting it to remind him that he hadn't so he would leave to go to the library and let him be alone.

"Nope." Brody said dismissively, turning the page. "It's a ridiculous topic that I intend to protest if given the chance."

Aidan clenched his fist. It wasn't that he strongly disliked Brody or anything; he just couldn't tolerate him when he immersed himself in the fullest extent of his naturally pessimistic attitude. Sure, all the boys irritated him at one time or another, Patrick for his lack of individual thinking and Bradley for his occasion cockiness that was actually quite similar to Chad's, but Brody just seemed to hit an entirely different nerve with Aidan.

"I don't know why you're getting all bent out of shape." Brody started, making it look like he could read and talk simultaneously. "You're the one with a girlfriend."

Aidan spun around in his chair and faced him challengingly. "How did you know that?" he demanded coldly. He and Bianca were trying to keep their relationship secret since they had only been together for two weeks although he was sure she had told all her friends since her friends seemed to harbor a strange respect for him that was still an enigma to him. As far as Aidan was concerned, there weren't many people he would tell: Chad of course, Bradley too probably, and then Patrick and Brody would end up finding out through Bradley.

"I saw you two kissing three days ago in front of the dorm around midnight." he said casually.

"So you were up at midnight keeping watch in front of the dorm just to catch people making out?" Aidan said annoyed.

"No." Brody snapped. "I was waiting for Bradley and Patrick to come back from that party with the Hufflepuff girls and . . ." Brody voice trailed off and Aidan knew it had something to do with Essy so he stopped caring and went back to staring at his unfinished essay.

"Holy mother of all that is holy!" shouted Bradley as the door to the dorm was slammed open. The ancient beds shook, making Aidan wonder how close they were to falling apart. Probably soon if Bradley keeps opening the door like that. Bradley had an overjoyed expression plastered on his handsome face and little, blonde Patrick behind him was grinning like a kid in a candy store.

"What is it?" Aidan asked, since he was clearly looking for someone to be interested.

"Well," Bradley started enthusiastically (he was quite the raconteur), "Pat and I were walking back from the party at the edge of the Forbidden Forest when we overheard Professor Dippet talking to someone whose voice we didn't recognize. Since I know pretty much everyone in the school, I had no choice but to find out who it was. From the wisps of conversation we could catch we deduced that he was talking to a professor. They used words like 'curriculum' and 'staff meeting' and the voice of the other person was too mature to be a female student. However, it was also clear that this professor was new and had just finished training for her job so we knew it had to be the professor who's taking over for Sluggy!"

Aidan lifted his eyebrows, searching for a point to all of this detail. "And?" he asked, losing patience.

"The new professor is . . . whoa; a major upgrade from Sluggy. She's just . . . whoa, and she is going to start tomorrow. You guys want to go see her? She's still talking to Professor Dippet right around the corner."

Aidan weighted his options quickly: go see new professor versus stare at the parchment for another twenty minutes in hopes that genius strikes me and I finish it tonight. It was a split-second decision as far as anyone was concerned. He put down his quill and stood up.

"Thatta boy!" said Bradley, clapping him on the shoulder. "Brody, you coming?" he asked the boy huddled up to his knees on his bed in the corner.

Brody looked blankly at Bradley for a few seconds before silently shutting his book and walking over to them.

The four boys exited the room and maneuvered through the hallways for a while before Bradley stuck out his arms like a crossing guard to keep them from walking any farther. He placed his index finger to his lips and hushed them quiet before peeking around the corner and giving them a nod of clarification.

Brody looked first and responded with a simple, "Hm, she's pretty," very objectively and matter-of-factly. Bradley almost looked offended.

"Aidan, you judge." he whispered, moving out of the way to give him a clear view of the new professor. Aidan stepped forward and his jaw dropped to the ground when he saw her.

"Mum?" he murmured quietly. Magdalena heard and looked towards the doorway, smiling instantly when her ice blue eyes fell upon her stunned son.

"Aidan!" she shouted, running over to give him a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too." Aidan said, hearing the boys behind him mumbling in shock. "What are you doing here?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I'm the new potions professor. I wanted to surprise you. I think it's safe to say I succeeded." she said, loosening her grip on him.

"You have no idea." he said starkly, his body completely immobilized.

"So, who are these guys?" Magdalena asked, motioning to Aidan's roommates who quickly shut up when they heard her address them.

"Uh, these are my roommates." Aidan said, finding it awkward to introduce his mom to a bunch of guys his age who clearly would jump at the chance to have sex with her if the opportunity arose. "This is Brody Craightton, Patrick O' Keefe, and Bradley Gallagher."

Magdalena shook the hand of each boy, Bradley a bit longer than the others because he was unwilling to let go so quickly.

"It's nice to meet you. I hope I will see you all in class tomorrow." she said, smiling at the boys who blushed, except for Bradley who gave her a slightly arrogant grin. "I have to get back to my place. I'm staying at the freestanding house number seven over there." she said, pointing behind her. "Bye Aidan. I love you. " she said, giving him another hug.

"I love you too, mum." he said, embarrassed as she walked away, humming a jovial tune to herself under her breath.

Once she was gone, Bradley slowly turned to Aidan and practically screamed, "Mother! She's your _mother_! How in bloody hell . . ."

-----------------------------------------

"So what's this I hear about you dating a Ravenclaw?" asked Bianca's roommate, Evelyn, as she entered the dorm to see Bianca taking off her make-up in front of her large mirror. She had just finished with all her foundation and was moving downwards towards her lips.

"Well, I'm dating a Ravenclaw." Bianca said, wiping away her dark red lipstick. She had been wearing it for so long that her lips were almost permanently stained a darker than natural hue as a result. "There's nothing more to it." she said nonchalantly as she tossed the tissue she was using into a wastebasket by her desk.

"Nothing more to it?!" Evelyn shouted, putting her hands on her curvy hips. "Why the hell are you dating a Ravenclaw?! They are all bookish, quiet types who wouldn't know fun if it bit them in the arse."

Bianca calmly moved a few strands of hair away from her face and sighed. Sure, Evelyn was a good friend of hers but she could be such an idiot.

"Well, the guy I'm going out with is a nice guy and cute and he may like books but he knows damn well how to have a good time." she said, with a self-satisfied smile as she reflected on the times they had gone swimming in the pond and made out in the Astronomy Tower, which was apparently his secret hideout. "And, he came to that meeting you missed."

"Wait, a Ravenclaw came to a meeting?" Evelyn said floored, lowering her head.

Bianca grinned a little wider. "Yep, and when he made an offering to the pot, it turned black. Almost instantly too."

"The pot or the potion?" Evelyn asked with a spacey look as she straightened her posture.

"The potion." Bianca said like it should be obvious. The pot_ is_ black dimwit, she thought to herself.

"Oh wow." Evelyn said, cupping her hand over her gossipy mouth. "But . . . how?"

"I don't know yet." Bianca said, her smirk returning as she stood up and laid down on her bed. "But I intend to find out."


	11. Chapter 10: Professor

_Chapter 10_

"Wake up sunshine." Bradley crooned, strongly shaking Aidan's thin shoulder. "It's your . . . mom's first day. You don't want to miss this!" he said cheerfully, struggling with admitting that the pretty, new potions teacher is the women who birthed one of his closest friends.

"God forbid," Aidan replied sarcastically as his school uniform was unceremoniously thrown in his face.

"Oh, don't you want to wish her good luck before class starts?" Bradley asked hopefully. He had been praying Aidan would go to see her and invite him to come along. He had a particularly interesting dream last night where Aidan's mom had been eating cake in her underwear while he watched and got repeatedly slapped in the face by Aidan. He was no divinator but he had a feeling the dream meant that he should stop lustfully admiring his friend's mom. And that he would never look at cake the same way again.

"No," Aidan said, standing up and stretching his lithe body, "She's a big girl. She can handle herself."

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"I am calm. I will do fine." Magdalena told herself as she nervously smoothed out the wrinkles in her dark blue sweater for the third time. Her first class was first year potions, which made her feel a little better. At eleven, children were usually still obedient and listened to authority. It was her second, third and four year classes she would have to be worried about. They would most likely behave like overgrown children, rebellious, argumentative, and coping with a surge of foreign hormones. The remaining classes of older students would probably respond well to her because she intended to treat her students how she treats her son: respectful, adult, and friendly until order is needed.

Outside the door of her office he heard voices, children's voices. Sing-songy children's voices like a choir of baby angels. The boys hadn't even begun to break and the girls still sounded as sweet and innocent as two-year-olds. And I'm afraid of them, Magdalena thought with self-deprecation. "I have nothing to be afraid of. They are just as scared of me as I am of them. Maybe even more. Eventually I will know them and think I was silly for having to do this ritual in the first place." she concluded.

Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door of her office and walked out into the room full of thirty or so first years, perched attentively and nervously on their seats, trying to judge her before she spoke a word. The chatter had stopped once she walked out, a decidedly good sign.

"Good morning, everyone. As I'm sure you have all heard, Slug- Professor Slughorn will be away for a while so I will be your new potions teacher until he returns, which will be some time in January. You may called me Professor Lumairo." Magdalena watched their faces as she spoke. They listened heedfully and she was thankful.

"Now, I was going to take attendance but I don't appear to have a class list." she said, shuffling through some unorganized papers on the large, wooden teacher's desk.

"Everyone's here." said a Gryffindor boy with neat brown hair sitting in the middle.

Magdalena smiled. "Thank you. What is your name?" she asked, figuring that if she made everyone talk at some point today, she would be able to ask them all what their names were and get to work at learning them.

The boy awkwardly smiled back at her. "Remus Lupin."

"Remus." Magdalena repeated, imprinting his face into her mind. "Thank you, Remus. I hope none of you mind the fact that I call you by your first names. Once we get to know each other, you can call me by mine too if you want. I don't mind. Now, according to Sluggy's lesson plan, you have just finished up learning about the various uses of wormwood and will now be moving onto bezoars. Would anyone like to give me an important use of wormwood just to recap?"

It was then that she looked up from the plans and realized that some students were giggling. What did I do, she wondered, glancing down to make sure there wasn't something different about her appearance that had changed in the last thirty seconds. Did I miss something? She let out a little gasp when it occurred to her that she had called Professor Slughorn, Sluggy.

"Er, I'm sorry. That was not very respectful even though I'm sure you kids call him that all the time outside of the classroom. It just happens to be a bit worse when you are considered to be one of his colleagues even though I had him as a potions teacher when I went here." she explained quickly. The students laughed and instantly seemed more at ease, as did Magdalena.

"Anyway, the question still stands. Uses of wormwood?" she said, looking around for a volunteer. "Anyone?" she pleaded. "Come on. I don't bite . . . usually." she joked. The students laughed again as a boy in the front row slowly and timidly raised his hand.

"Yes, you." she said, pointing at him. "What is your name?"

The boy tilted his head up slightly and looked at her through his shaggy and greasy, black hair. "S-Severus Snape." he said, nervously.

Magdalena smiled warmly, recognizing this kid as the outcast. Even though he was a Slytherin, that didn't at all effect the fact that she didn't want him to be fearful or shy just because he was ostracized. "Okay Severus, for the one hundred galleon question tell me an important use of wormwood."

He smiled briefly and answered quite authoritatively, "Wormwood is most commonly used in a potion called Draught of the Living Dead. It's called that because it is such a strong sleeping potion, people who take it appear dead."

"Excellent, Severus." Magdalena said, beaming at him. A furious blush washed over his face and two Gryffindor boys in the back murmured, "Ooo, he fancies a teacher." Magdalena shot a knowing stare in their direction. And I have found the bullies of the bullied, she thought.

"And you two would be?" she asked, pointing to them.

"James Potter." answered a boy with short, black hair and glasses.

"Sirius Black." answered the other, a boy with longer, dark hair and a complacent smile.

"James and Sirius," she said like she was pondering connotations of their names, "So you're the guys I'm going to have to watch, huh?" she said, smirking. She had a feeling that, with time, in spite of the fact that they clearly goofed off everywhere else, they wouldn't goof off with her simply because she had a tendency to create a more free and casual environment.

"Well, if you really want to watch us, we won't stop you." Sirius replied, basking in the laughter of his classmates.

"Very funny." she answered sarcastically as she gave Severus a don't-worry-about-them smile that caused him to blush a bit more. "Now, before we start the actual lesson for today, does anyone already know what a bezoar is?" she asked.

The Gryffindor girl sitting next to Severus raised her hand and Magdalena called on her. She had long, flaming red hair that reminded her of Liam back at the lab and emerald colored eyes. "What is your name?" Magdalena asked.

"Lily Evans." the girl replied. James let out a faint whistle in the back.

"Lily, what is a bezoar?" Magdalena asked, ignoring him.

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons." she said, sounding a bit unsure of herself.

"Yes, correct. Good job, Lily." Magdalena said. It's odd that I asked two questions and the answers came from two kids who were sitting next to each other but don't at all look like the kind of people who would be friends, she thought. Oh yeah, Sluggy used to pair up students based on skill level so that the slackers wouldn't rely on the smart kids for everything. A technique of his that I actually agreed with.

"Are you all in lab pairs?" she asked, just to make sure.

Lily nodded.

"Good. That makes my job easier." she said, with a comical sigh of relief. "Now, I don't expect you to take my word, or more accurately, Lily's word, for it. Everyone come up here and get one of each of the supplies." she said, as she motioned to some equipment she had set up on the desk in front prior to the start of class. The students all jumped up enthusiastically as if this was their first experiment and got right to work.

--------------------------------

When class was over, Magdalena sat back and silently listened to the most avid talkers among the students. They were giving her a positive review so she surreptitiously slipped back into her office and shut the door so she could cheer and do a little dance of success. What a professional I am, she thought to herself. Absurdity was much more acceptable in her little lab with Liam where they could play the roles of mad scientists than among students who would tell their other teachers that the new potions professor was having seizures in her office while loudly shouting.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door that caused her to jump. After giving herself a few seconds to calm down, she answered it, surprised to see Severus standing there, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, hello." she said. "What is it?" she asked, smoothing down her hair that had gotten quite messed up when she was jumping around.

"Well, I have a free period now and I don't have any homework so I was wondering if you needed any help organizing the potions closet or, well, you probably don't have any papers to correct but if you need any help with anything else. . ."

Magdalena grinned. She felt bad for him all over again. She couldn't exactly relate to the torturous emotions of liking a teacher but she could certainly imagine.

"Well, when I went into the potions closet everything seemed really out of order. If you could create some sort of system, that would be a big help." she suggested.

He looked happily up at her. "Okay, Professor Lumairo."


	12. Chapter 11: Girlfriend

_**Author's Note:** The next chapter is when things start to hit the fan._

_Chapter 11_

"Ah, Mr. Lumairo, what do you have to discuss with me?" Headmaster Dippet asked, leaning forward in his large, carved chair and motioning to a seat in front of his desk. Aidan took a moment to admire the leather-bound books, past headmaster portraits, and strange utensils adorning the room and then carefully sat down. He had rarely seen the office since he never required discipline but his attempts at getting Headmaster Dippet to give him a little of his time had finally succeed so now he got a full viewing of the infamous office.

"First of all I was wondering if I could transfer from my herbology class to the third year divination class. I know they are at the same time so I don't see why it would be a problem." Aidan said, jumping right into his intentions without even gracing him with a minute of small talk.

"That is true," Dippet contemplated. It was uncommon to hear such a request. "I just have to wonder why such a bright student as yourself would wish to take a beginner's course their last year of school. You are about to go out into the world. I would think you would want to know as much as you can about the subjects you have been previously studying."

"I never got the opportunity to take it as a third year and I would like to develop a more well-rounded magical background. Besides, mostly everything in herbology at this level has already been taught to me in potions class. It's unnecessary to continue in a field I have no intention of going into." he said, confidently even though truthfully, he hadn't officially decided what he wanted to do with his life. He told his mother he was going to go into potions like her since he enjoyed it and had a natural aptitude for it but if he were to be true to himself, he really wanted to go into defense against the dark arts. As docile as he appeared, the thought of dueling and risking your life getting close to danger was thrilling to him and he could picture himself doing it for years without boredom or complaints.

"Alright. I will make the arrangements tonight and tomorrow you can start attending divination class." Headmaster Dippet decided.

"Thank you." Aidan said, feigning gratefulness even though he knew he would get the class. He had other business to discuss that would require much more effort.

"I also have something to talk to you about regarding my mother." he said professionally, speaking to Headmaster Dippet as a colleague and not a superordinate. But still politely, of course.

"Oh," he replied, leaning back in his chair understandingly. "Aidan, your mother is doing a wonderful job teaching potions, however . . ."

"I couldn't agree more." Aidan interrupted. "Her position as a professor has nothing to do with what I would like to discuss." he said coldly. He was sure he would jump to the conclusion that Aidan had a problem with his mother teaching at the school he attends and he really wanted to get the awkward questions he had over with as soon as possible.

"Okay then," Headmaster Dippet said, feeling a bit humbled. "What is it that you wish to ask?"

"Well, first of all, I would like to know what sort of information Hogwarts has on me as a student." he said, crossing his legs. Although he was sure that Hogwarts would no have any information on his father to dispose to him, he had to at least make sure before he continued his search.

"What information in particular are you wondering about?" Headmaster Dippet asked, sensing that this question would be a launch off for a series of related questions.

"Is it necessary to disclose information on a student's parent if they are, well, absent?" Aidan asked.

"No," Headmaster Dippet answered. "And we do not have the name of your father on file."

"Then I digress to go back to the topic of my mother. To the best of your knowledge, did she have a boyfriend while attending school here?"

Headmaster Dippet scratched his head and placed his hand under his chin as if he was searching the recesses of his memory. "I am quite sure she did not. I recall students making fun of her for that fact, actually."

Aidan winced slightly. He has seen his mother be the subject of reticule a considerable amount of times for not being married at her age and for having an illegitimate child. It seems like she has endured quite a lot all her life, he thought.

"Did she have any male friends?" Aidan asked. He knew that his mother was unmercifully secretive so it was completely possible that she had been dating someone and refused to let anyone find out. If she had an prominent male friends, they could have actually been her boyfriend and even his father.

"Your mother had a small amount of very diverse friends. Her best friend was a Hufflepuff girl named Adonia . . ."

"I know. They are still close today." Aidan said, irritated that he was dancing around the question.

"How nice." Headmaster Dippet said with a smile. Aidan forced one back at him, his patience dwindling rapidly. "As for male friends, she was close with a Ravenclaw boy who's name I can't quite remember and a Gryffindor boy named Edward . . . and I once saw her with a Slytherin boy too. Those are the only ones I can think of."

A Slytherin, Aidan thought, realizing he had struck gold. He knew Edward and Calum, the Ravenclaw boy Dippet couldn't remember the name of, but he had never heard anything about a Slytherin friend. And I had already decided that my father was most likely a Slytherin and if this 'friend' had gotten her pregnant and left, that could have led to mom's antipathy towards Slytherins.

He wanted to badger Headmaster Dippet for the name of the Slytherin but he knew he wouldn't get it out of him. The man was old, after all, and with age comes an evanescent memory.

"Thank you for your time, professor." Aidan said, standing up and shaking his hand. He knew he could search school records in the library: yearbooks, plaques, and even old issues of _The Daily Prophet_. He was looking for a Slytherin, likely to be within two years of his mother's age, who possessed traits that she would find attractive. And had the same dark eyes as him. "If you happen to remember the names of those other male friends, I would appreciate it if you would tell me." he said, including both friends to not make it seem suspicious. "And I would like this conversation to stay between us." he added for good measure.

"Of course, Mr. Lumairo. Have a nice evening."

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"Hello Aidan," a familiar voice purred as he was abruptly pulled into a tight, forceful kiss. He smiled and looked down at Bianca, who appeared to have been waiting for him outside the office. He hadn't told her about the meeting and everyone else was at dinner so it was a particularly surprising encounter.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, coiling his fingers around her long, blond locks. It was always a pleasant occurrence to see her but he had a feeling that some ulterior motive was at work.

"Well, I wanted to see you and tell you there's another meeting on the thirty-first and . . . I wanted to ask you when you would introduce me to your mum." she said, wrapping her arms around his neck possessively.

Aidan knitted his brows in confusion. "She's your potions teacher. If you haven't met her by now . . ."

"No, silly." she said, cutting him off with a loud laugh. "I mean introduce me to her as your girlfriend."

Aidan froze. He had never even thought about the fact that his mother might actually have to meet Bianca. He never introduced her to Essy so the thought didn't exactly cross his mind that most parents meet the person their child is dating. He was prepared for Bradley and the others to meet her but not his mother. He could tell that she probably wouldn't like her, not because she's a Slytherin but because she emanates a certain aura, a lack of morals and a sense of apathy towards every thing that isn't fun or that doesn't directly affect her. She seems like the kind of girl who would get Aidan into trouble with her carefree attitude, something he was very good at avoiding. She's the kind of girl any loving mother would hate as long as they could see through her smiling countenance and his mother most certainly would.

But to Aidan, it's always better to get things done and over with.

"How about right now? She eats dinner in her office because she says the other professors don't like her very much so she's alone and has time to spare." he said, walking in that direction.

"Oh yay!" Bianca said pleased, clutching Aidan's arm. "I'm so happy that we're finally public."

Aidan grinned awkwardly.

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"Severus, why don't you go get dinner? You must be famished." Magdalena yelled from her desk, eating a forkful of steak from her plate. He was organizing the supply closet and had insisted that he wasn't hungry but she wasn't buying it. Even a scrawny kid like him would be hungry after so much work.

"I don't like eating with the other kids." he admitted as he stepped into the room. "You don't eat with the other professors so I don't see why I have to eat with the other kids."

Magdalena laughed. "I never said you have to eat with the other kids. You can eat outside if you wish, just as long as you eat. Besides," she started, taking a sip of wine from her glass, "you have been helping me here for so long. I'm feeling overwhelmed."

"But I like helping you." he insisted. She frowned sadly, feeling like she was feeding his crush when she should be stifling it.

"Well, what about that Lily Evans? Maybe you could help her out too." Magdalena hinted. She thought they might be good for each other and them forming a relationship could help bridge gaps between a lot of the first year students.

"Lily is really smart. I don't think she would need my help." he said, more critical of himself than indifferent to the idea of being with her. She wondered if that meant there was hope for them.

"Hey mum!" shouted Aidan, knocking on the door. Magdalena hopped from her chair and opened the door, giving Aidan a hug.

"Hello honey." she exclaimed. "And Bianca." she said, curiously noting the short Slytherin girl behind him. "I didn't know you two knew each other. Come on in. Do you know Severus? He's a first year Slytherin and a mean supply closet organizer. Severus, this is my son, Aidan, and Bianca Sarin."

Severus waved shyly at the two older students and mumbled, "I'll go eat now," as he slipped out the door. The fact that the object of his affection has a son who is six years older than him was quite a difficult thing to handle.

"So, to what do I owe the unexpected visit?" Magdalena asked, leaning against the side of her desk casually.

"Well," Aidan said, glancing at Bianca who was smiling wide, "Mum, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Bianca." He stepped aside so she could move forward and shake his mother's hand.

"This is a surprise." Magdalena said, her lips curling up. Whether or not she was genuinely happy, no one could tell. "It's nice to meet you, Bianca. How long have you two been dating?"

"It will be a month and a half on the thirtieth." Bianca said proudly, flashing her little, white teeth.

"That's my birthday." Magdalena said, matter-of-factly. "Hm, coincidence." she murmured, even though she didn't believe in coincidences. "Well, I hope you're treating my son right. He's a good boy." she said, patting him on the head.

"That he is," she agreed, smiling at him in a way Magdalena viewed as suggestive. It made her ill. The girl had made her ill from her first day teaching but she couldn't quite put her finger on what truly bothered her about the girl. It could be the fact that she was clearly a brown-noser or the fact that she tried to charm her way into and out of things. Although she had seen Aidan behave similarly and to a much lesser degree, there was something very different about the way this girl behaved and she didn't like it.

"Well, I have to correct some essays so I will see both of you tomorrow." She kissed Aidan on the cheek and gave him another hug. "Goodbye Aidan. And nice meeting you, Bianca."

"Likewise." Bianca said, taking Aidan's hand. Magdalena prayed that her gut feeling about the girl was wrong.

----------------------------

In the master bedroom of the famous estate, he laid out his choice of clothing on the chair and took a step back to look at it: a white long-sleeved, button-down shirt, standard black trousers, a black suit coat, and black leather loafers. It was noncontroversial, almost bourgeois, and very much like something he used to wear when he was in his twenties, before his rise to power. It also bore an uncanny resemblance to the outfit he had worn the first time he had gone to visit Magdalena unannounced, so likewise it was only fitting.

Only a few days now, he thought, excitement creeping through his bones. And I have quite enough of the potion to see her many times unheralded if I wish. Although she may not be at first, she will be happy to see me and if not, I'll just have to keep visiting her until she is. And until I get to meet my son.

He took a seat on the clothes in the chair and smirked malevolently.

The Slytherin line lives on.


	13. Chapter 12: Temptation

_**Author's Note:** This chapter is crazy long. And it is the exciting return of Tom Riddle. dramatic music I hope you like it._

_Chapter 12_

"Liam is in the hospital," read the first line of the first letter Magdalena had opened on her birthday. Immediately she leaned forward and squinted to get a better look, pressing her stomach into the kitchen table until it made her feel sick and clutching her heart in shock.

Mistakenly thinking it to be a birthday card from the potions department at the Ministry, she had torn into the yellowed paper with a bright smile until she unfolded the letter, not card, inside to read the disturbing news.

Had this been a few years ago, she would not have been too worried about it. Liam was not the most graceful partner for her to work with, nor was he the most conscientious. In fact, in his first year working there, he set the Ministry's record for causing the most problems that required building evacuation.

But this was now. This was a time where strange things were happening to muggle-borns, all because a few prejudicious people could not handle the idea that not everyone with magical powers has a magical legacy. And Liam was one of the gifted.

Holding her breath, Magdalena continued reading the letter, the words running together on the page so only a few crucial ones jumped out at her: 'explosion,' 'minimal damage,' 'full recovery.'

She let out a sigh of relief and put the paper aside, making a mental note to send Liam a get-well and please-don't-mess-up-again card.

She looked down at the rest of the mail Apollo had dropped off and quickly skimmed the return addresses: Adonia, the Ministry again, Edward, Liam's home address, Jacqueline (a close friend from Ravenclaw), Calum, and one from Hogwarts, most likely a card that all the teachers signed even though none of them liked her very much because they found her teaching methods 'unconventional', said, of course, in the most condescending of ways.

Setting the letters aside for the time being, she lazily rose from the table and walked down the hall and into the bathroom to take a shower. She had already decided that she was going to spend the day inside looking through all her old scrapbooks and then having dinner with Aidan. Adonia had insisted that she have an actual party but Magdalena had told her she just wasn't feeling up for it today and promised that they would go out another time. It was her birthday and she would do what she wanted. However, she also had a nagging feeling that was telling her that she shouldn't leave her home and she had learned long ago to trust her intuitive impulses.

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Aidan wandered into the Great Hall at one o'clock that afternoon, his eyes half closed and his feet taking shelter in a pair of navy blue slippers. He had mustered up enough energy to put on a dark green short-sleeve t-shirt but his legs were still covered in navy plaid pajama pants. Bradley and Patrick, on the contrary, were sitting wide-awake and fully dressed at the Ravenclaw table playing a heated game of chess. Patrick appeared to be winning.

"Aidan's finally up." Pat stated without looking up as he carefully studied the board to plan his next attack strategy. He lifted his hand up to hover above his queen for a few seconds but then brought it back down, changing his mind.

"Oh, yes! Good!" Bradley shouted jumping up in his seat and leaning over the table towards him, accidently moving a few game pieces, much to Patrick's horror. "I hear that tonight there are a bunch of girls trying to organize a swimming party. You have to come!" he said, trying to be discreet in the loudest way possible. Aidan heard a laugh over his shoulder and turned around to see Chad at the Slytherin table shaking his head. He smiled at him as a silent hello and looked back at Bradley.

"I can't." Aidan said, running his fingers through his hair and realizing that he hadn't looked in a mirror after he woke up. I probably look terrible, he thought. Oh, well.

"You can't?!" Bradley said, flabbergasted. "If this has to do with . . . that Bianca girl, you could just bring her along too." he said, his voice sounding pained to make such a suggestion.

For reasons unknown to the entire population of the school, Bradley did not like Bianca. This came as a surprise to Aidan since Bradley seems to like all girls regardless of just about anything that could be controversial about them, especially if they were particularly attractive. He had even been nice to Essy, in spite of the fact that almost every day when her head was turned he told Aidan to break up with her before he became a helpless slave to her. Why does he dislike Bianca so much, Aidan wondered. He seems to talk about her in the same way that mum does, that same nice tone with underlying aversion. Pat has had an ambivalent attitude towards her since they met, as he usually does towards things, although he had commented that she was pretty. Brody had just used her as another helpful demonstration to explain why his life sucks. They were fine with her, so what were Bradley and mum's problems?

"It's not Bianca," Aidan said, a little bit harsher than he meant to be. "I'm going to see my mum later tonight. It's her birthday."

Bradley's hazel eyes widened. "Take me with you," he said quickly, half joking, half serious.

"No, no, no," Aidan said with a smirk. "You have to go watch girls jump in the cold lake tonight. Too bad." He said, snapping his fingers sarcastically.

Bradley leaned back into his seat defeated. "You're cruel," he said accusingly. Aidan sat down next to Patrick and grabbed an apple from a large basket in the center of the table.

"And you're never satisfied."

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Magdalena curled up on her cushy, black leather couch, a glass of white wine in one hand and a stack of well-conditioned scrapbooks in the other spanning from Aidan's yearly pictures all the way back to her own birth. She had decided that she would start closest to the present and move backwards so she put Aidan's books on the top of the pile. She also decided to change the music with each scrapbook to pertain to whichever era she was looking at to add to the mood of the walk down memory lane.

It was around seven and she had spend the majority of her day reading even though she had popped out of the house for a short while to buy a birthday cake and some presents to herself. Now, she was back in her nightgown and ready for an evening at home. Aidan hadn't said what time he would be coming by but he had told her it would be late because he had some papers to work on.

Just as she had gotten herself settled on the couch, she heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was her son, she sprang to her feet, not bothering to tie her robe closed and opened the door. She had to stifle a loud exclamation of dismay when she saw scrawny, little Severus on her doorstep, his head low as if he was embarrassed to be there.

"Oh, Severus! Hello. Um, what are you doing here?" she asked as she awkwardly tried to tie her robe shut even though he had already gotten an eyeful for an innocent and oblivious eleven-year-old.

"I, uh, um, happy birthday." he said, holding out a card to her, his voice shaking at his overwhelming luck.

"Thank you." she said smiling, as she read the card. She was thankful that it was sweet and not sappy. "You didn't have to do this."

He shrugged. "I wanted to."

"Well then, thank you again." she said, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She very well couldn't invite him in. That was sure to be against a rule. Not to mention the fact that she wouldn't know what to do once he was inside.

Luckily, he caught onto the dilemma. "I'm going to go finish my homework. Good-bye, Professor Lumairo."

"Good-bye." she said, shutting the door.

She took a swig of wine from her glass and leaned against the closed door. Great, she thought. And the student who has a little crush on me got to see me only a bit more covered than I would be in my underwear. If he tells anyone, I'm effectively in for a rough time with the other students. Maybe even the faculty. Although, I don't really think he'd have anyone to tell. She frowned. That's sad and yet, at the same time, a great relief.

Thinking her bed would a more comfortable place to reminisce, Magdalena decided to move everything into her room. She grabbed the record player and the albums and strolled down the hallway to her room. She had decorated her temporary house to look just like hers so she could almost pretend she had never left. She hung her robe on the hook by the door and sat down on her bed, preparing to remember again.

After she had gone through all the pictures from the last twenty years, she got up to change the record. Looking through her vinyl, she decided on the record she listened to almost every day as a sixth year, the one she had made at the club with Adonia. Once it started however, instead of being filled with memories of dancing in downtown London, she was filled with memories of Tom. She shook her head to try to dispel the memories but they were relentless: Tom staring at her from across the courtyard, Tom sitting next to her when she had broke down into tears, Tom trying to kiss her and getting stopped by Headmaster Dippet, Tom with her in the Astronomy Tower. She rubbed her temples, refusing to let the thoughts progress any further and opened a scrapbook to distract herself.

Almost mockingly, the first thing in the scrapbook was the _Daily Prophet_ cutout about her being named Head Girl, with the painstakingly uncomfortable picture of her and Tom. Neither of them was smiling and they both were quivering with anticipation for the end of the photo shoot. She also noticed that while the Magdalena in the picture kept her eyes straight ahead at all times to the point where it looked like she was turning red in the face from the effort, the Tom in the picture kept subtly glancing at her through the corners of his eyes, sometimes with a piercing venomous glare and sometimes with a look of fervent, consuming desire. Magdalena stared wide-eyed at his expression for a longer time than she should have before finally turning the page.

The next page was an alleviation of how the first page had affected her. There were more pictures from her last few years at Hogwarts and they seemed to be somewhat chronological. She saw a picture of her on the Ravenclaw common room's couch with Calum and Jacqueline, Calum in the center, Magdalena clinging to his right arm with her head on his shoulder, and Jacqueline laying down with her head in his lap, the three of them looking like ragdolls propped up to look like a sleeping family. Magdalena couldn't remember who had taken the picture but she felt it was a perfect display of their relationship. Calum was like a big brother to her and Jacqueline, nothing more than that. His neat brown hair was hanging in front of his eyes and she realized how much it reminded her of her son's roommate, Bradley. Calum had always been the advice giver and the most organized one of the three of them. Jacqueline's light brown mane of wavy hair was sprawled out across his lap and down his legs, a carefree contrast to her shy, stiff personality.

Below it was a picture of her and Edward on Halloween, wearing costumes and eating candy. They had been the only two to dress up so someone had to take a picture of them. The picture reminded Magdalena of another memory, one that wasn't so nice.

Edward had become part of the group through Jacqueline. He had asked her out and they dated for two years before Jacqueline broke up with him because she felt that they weren't 'meant to be'. Later that day she had gone crying to Calum for solace and ended up falling asleep on his bed leading to a huge scandal and the deterioration of Jacqueline's squeaky clean image. For a while Edward refused to speak to either of them and would only talk to Magdalena. That was how their relationship became more of a friendship than friends by association.

The last picture on the page was of her and Adonia, dancing through the fields at night. Jacqueline had taken the picture when she had been wondering why Magdalena wasn't in the room yet and saw them talking outside. Adonia was and is Magdalena's best friend. They met on the Hogwarts Express during their first year and although Adonia's perky attitude was practically the antithesis of Magdalena's calmness, they hit it off instantly. Adonia never quite fell into any social group outside of Magdalena herself and she liked that freedom.

Magdalena turned the page and was met with another picture of her and Adonia only this time they were at Slughorn's Christmas party. Adonia had her arm around her shoulders and kept bobbing her head to the now nonexistent music, while Magdalena tried very hard to look happy and came up drastically short.

Then, like a haunting phantom hellbent on stalking her, she saw Tom in the background of the picture, staring at them. His face was hard like he was trying to stifle an unknown emotion even though he just ended up looking homicidal.

"You don't look very happy for someone celebrating their birthday, dressed in all black like that." A voice in front of her mused: male, smooth, and with a hint of self-satisfaction.

Magdalena lowered the scrapbook and stared into the dark eyes of Tom Riddle, standing in the corner of her room, eighteen years older but still very handsome. Whether his dark hair contained strands of gray or white, she could not tell with the dim light in her room, nor could she see any signs of aging in his face. Somehow though, she knew even on a bright sunny day, she would be hard-pressed to find any. He still looked so young for his age even though the same thing has been said about her on numerous occasions. Looking at him was almost blistering.

She felt an icy chill run up her back, both at his presence and at the fact that he had gotten into her house in spite of the protective charms she had cast, but she tried very hard to maintain a successful, apathetic facial expression even though internally, questions and ideas were racing like cars on a highway. Suddenly a thought slowed down long enough for her to look inside and she realized that she was sitting with her legs bent so that he had a direct view of her underwear. She snapped her knees together.

"Tom Riddle," she said with as much nausea as she could rally. "How long has it been now? Twenty-two years? No, excuse me, I mean eighteen." She glared at him and he smirked in return.

"Ah, yes, eighteen years." He said, reflecting on the last time he had seen her. She knew what he was thinking and it made her want to hit him. "You're still so beautiful." he said, smiling that annoyingly charming smirk as his eyes made their way down from her long, black hair and moon earrings that she had continued wearing in honor of her mentally-crippled mother.

She was infuriated that he had the temerity to come and visit her unannounced just to act the way he always did towards her. She was also infuriated by the fact that he had taken advantage of her those eighteen years ago and it had turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to her. She had her son, a son who never would have existed if he hadn't come to her that night. But if she reflected solely on what had caused such a great thing, it was easier to be mad and thus, not want him.

"You raped me." she said, slamming the book shut for emphasis.

Tom chuckled. "That was not rape by any means. Just a simple desire spell."

The blood drained from Magdalena's face making it even paler than usual. Why hadn't she thought of that? Maybe because she didn't want to admit that she had those feelings towards him. Maybe because it made it easier to hate him when she thought he had raped her. Now she really had no plausible reason to be angry with him, so she decided to just be angry with him for manipulating her.

"You're evil," she muttered, using her only defense now that her logic had backfired. "Get out of my house."

"It's not your house. It's Hogwarts property." he corrected her, taking a step towards the bed. "And I'm not evil just because you can't cope with the fact that you still have feelings for me."

Magdalena's jaw dropped. "You cocky ba- . ."

She stopped in the middle of the word when Tom sat down on her bed and leaned over her with one hand on each side of her head, staring hard into her ice blue eyes. Her breathing slowed and her brain became completely clear. Why was she mad again? Because he never visited her before now? Because he was trying to seduce her? Her brain groaned.

"Why don't we make up for those lost eighteen years? We never should have ended what we had."

Ended what we had. His plans, Magdalena remembered. He wanted to kill all the muggle-borns, take over the world, and have her right beside him. Then she remembered her suspicions of him being Voldemort.

But before she could mention it, his mouth was pressed against hers in a heated kiss and all she could think was that it has been too long since she has felt like this. He forced his tongue into her mouth and she grateful accepted it but fighting hard against him as if trying to regain control. She knew she was losing when she felt his cold hand slip between her legs and slide under her nightgown so that it rested on her inner thigh. She pressed her hands into his chest, originally to push him away but as his hand moved higher, her fingers curled around the fabric and started inching towards the buttons.

-------------------------------

Aidan walked through the cold October air, wrapping his scarf around his face. He had been feeling exanimate all day and had absent-mindedly worn a short-sleeve shirt outside even though the temperature called for long-sleeves and coats.

He did not shiver though. He never shivered. Cold was a part of him even though it could still cause him discomfort.

He looked up at the wooden door. A gold-painted seven was nailed to the front with a once-gold knocker beneath it. Everything here is ancient, Aidan thought to himself as he reached for the knocker which was like ice when he touched it.

As he reached out, he got a good look at his forearm and saw something he frequently forgot about. There were two tiny, round circles right below his blue-hued veins that had never fully faded. He had gotten the scars thirteen years ago when he was five. Like most five years olds, Aidan enjoyed running around outside at dusk and then laying in the grass and staring up at the clouds that were still visible. On that day however, his one-person game of 'what does that cloud look like' was disrupted by a stabbing pain in his arm. When he looked down a snake was attached to his arm, its teeth sunk deep enough to draw blood. Aidan jumped onto his feet and wailed for it to get off and go away and, surprisingly, that's just what the snake did.

Since then, he has been cautious of snakes. He rarely ever saw them but when he did he never got very close to one. Really it was the closest thing to a phobia that he had.

Suddenly he realized that his fingers were practically frozen to the knocker so he quickly slammed it against the door and put his hand in the pocket of his pants to wait patiently for his mother to come to the door.

-----------------------------------

The knock at the door caused Magdalena's eyes to open. Tom ignored it and continued to explore her mouth until she turned her face away, nearly biting his tongue in the process.

"I have to see who it is." she said, finding herself annoyed by the interruption.

"No you don't." he said, trying to kiss her again. She put her hand on his forehead to stop him and his eyes glowered with ire.

"Yes, I do." she said, trying to roll off the bed but finding it impossible when he was straddling her with no intention of letting her go. "I promise that this will only take a minute."

He squinted his eyes at her as if he was threatening her into keeping her promise and begrudgingly moved aside. She practically sprinted out of the room and ran to the door, not quite sure what she was going to do. She was hoping that she would never have to choose between her son and his father but that seemed to be the predicament she found herself in as she opened the door.

"Aidan, hi!" she said, with a mistrustful amount of enthusiasm and a big smile. Aidan slowly stepped inside the warm house and loosened his scarf as he eyed her like he was trying to read her mind. She was hiding something.

"Hello." he answered, the word drawn out a bit at the end as if it had become a question. "Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

Magdalena looked away guiltily. "Yes, I got sort of sidetracked when it came to correcting those essays. And Adonia refused to let me go my whole birthday without going out so she . . ." Aidan held up his hand to stop her.

"I get it. I really don't mind." he interrupted, honestly, wrapping his scarf around his neck again as he reached for the door. "I have something else I could do today so you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to see your friends." he said, deciding that he would go see Bianca and not go to the pond for the party unless she wanted to.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a hug. "I love you, Aidan." she said in a low voice, praying that Tom couldn't hear them. He hadn't mentioned knowing about them having a son so she figured that he didn't know and she wanted to keep it that way, for his safety.

"I love you too, mom. Happy birthday." Aidan said, handing her a wrapped present that she placed on the nearest table.

Magdalena watched Aidan leave from the window and once he was almost halfway back to the castle, she skirted back into her room. Tom was seated on her bed, staring at the vase on her nightstand that contained the dried-out, one-thorned rose he had given her that was now such a dark red that it was almost black. He turned his head towards her once she walked in.

"Who was that?" he asked accusingly, surely assuming that it had been a gentleman caller who would need to have his head removed from his body for infringing on his claimed territory.

"A student. He had a question about an assignment I had given out. I'm sure you know I'm a teacher if you had the knowledge of where I'm living." she said, moving towards him. Lucky for her, she was good at thinking on her feet.

Tom did not react. He wondered why she would greet a student in just her nightgown. He would know if she had a boyfriend; he had been keeping a close eye on her for so many years but that slight fear that she was coveted by other men, even if they were still only boys, ripped at him until he was driven crazy. Lucky for him, he knew how to channel that kind of rage into more productive emotions.

"Yes. I know a lot more than you may think, Magdalena." he said, patting the bed next to him in an effort to get her to sit down. She conceded but made sure to sit a bit farther away from him than he had indicated. She was trying to tell herself to not let anything get beyond talking even though they had already gotten a lot further that night already.

Tom moved towards her so that their legs were touching, the soft fabric of his pants against her bare calves. She shivered noticeably and he simpered at her.

"Sometimes I even know you better than you know yourself." he stated with his hand on her knee as he moved his face in towards hers so that his breath could fall across her lips. "For example, right now you are trying to tell yourself to smother any feelings you have for me to try to turn this get-together into nothing more than two people chatting like old friends. Internally, however, you are wondering what it would be like to just loosen the hand on your self-control and allow yourself the act of indulgence."

Magdalena's teeth bent over her lower lip, biting down until it went numb. If it was possible, he had just made her hate him and love him a little bit more.

His other hand moved up to her neck, pulling her face towards his. She released her hold on her lip to allow him to press his against hers so forcefully, she couldn't stop herself from letting out a slight whimper. The hand moved up to her shoulder to gently push her into a horizontal position as he covered her body with his, taking special note of how she felt beneath him and storing the memory away from future reference.

The hand that had once been on her knee moved up her body, bunching up her nightgown as it went. Her hands went about unbuttoning his shirt as she repeated a mantra of 'this is wrong' over and over in her head until the words were completely meaningless.

Her nightgown was lying on the floor next to his shirt and she knew that there was no way she could back out of this now. Her fingers entwined in his black hair as he charted a trail with his lips down her body until he reached her navel. She opened her eyes at the feeling of him stopping suddenly and looked down to see him grinning up at her. As slowly and torturously as he could, he pulled her underwear off her legs and she closed her eyes again in submission.

---------------------------------------

Magdalena glanced at the body lying next to her and instantly felt a wave of shame. This wasn't supposed to be how she would spend her birthday, sending away her son to have sex with his father who may or may not be the serial killer she is trying to stop.

What happened to rational Magdalena? She wondered gloomily. What happened to level-headed Magdalena? What happened to the Magdalena with integrity until angered to violence?

Apparently, she had a momentary lapse of reason over a first love. She weakly pulled the sheets around her body suddenly feeling very naked.

As soundlessly and swiftly as she could, she climbed out of the bed and tip-toed over to her silk bathrobe hanging off the back of her door. The floor creaked slightly from old age but not enough to wake a normal, sleeping person. However, Tom was just as perceptive awake as he was asleep and with the loss of her warm body heat his eyes had shot open. From the bed, his face hidden by the covers so that he appeared to be still sleeping, he watched her tie the navy robe around her waist much to his displeasure.

"No. Come back here." he commanded, moving over onto his side and motioning to the spot she had just left.

Magdalena clenched her fist, half angry with him for being so arrogant as to presume he could entice her back into the bed and half angry because of how loudly her brain was screaming at her to do so.

"Get . . . out." she spat, her back still facing him.

"Oh Magdalena, I liked it much better when you were begging me instead of yelling at me." he said, smirking.

"Get out!" she said more forcefully this time, giving him a fiery glare over her shoulder.

He rolled out of the bed and started walking slowly towards her as she tried furiously to kept her eyes from falling below his waist.

"Actually, maybe I'm wrong. You're so sexy when you're angry."

Completely snapping, she grabbed the empty white wine bottle sitting on the nearby table and hurled it ruthlessly at his head. He dodged it effortlessly, still smiling in that obnoxiously self-assured way that secretly made her want him, as it landed anticlimactically among the gentle cushion of her rustled bedsheets. Magdalena let out a sound of heightened vexation.

Before her mind could process it, his arms were wound tightly around her waist and he was pulling her into a torrid kiss that he refused to let her break. It certainly shut her up. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, her arms wrapped around his neck to bring herself closer until she felt his grip loosen and wither away.

When she opened her eyes, he was gone. The bed was still unmade proving that it really happened but his clothes were gone. She could still smell him, sense him, and yet he had completely disappeared. Apparated.

In an act that she knew was childish, Magdalena punched the wall with so much force that the aging, paper-thin wall caved in, leaving a huge hole that she would shamefully repair once she got out of the shower to try to wash away the stench of her weakness.


	14. Chapter 13: Ability

_**Author's Note:** It's been a long time. I'm not going to make excuses. Here it is. The next chapter will be more Tom/Magdalena-ness._

_Chapter 13_

"You and your mum wear dark colors a lot." Bianca said matter-of-factly, seeming to have a mental lapse that caused her to lose all knowledge of where she was or what she was doing.

Aidan stopped kissing her neck and straightened his head to give her a look that asked if she had seriously said that now of all times. One of his hands was holding her shoulder against the brick wall of the dark corridor near the entrance to the meeting place and the other was cupping her breast. Her hands were around his bottom. And yet, after choosing the prize location to grope each other before the meeting, she had broken the heat of the moment to inquire about his and his mother's choice in wardrobe colors.

Aidan could not have felt more drained.

He let out a long groan and took a step away from her, running his fingers though his hair to try to get him out of the state she had put him in and then ripped away without warning.

"So why is that?" she asked, innocently.

Aidan knew why she did it. She had a superiority complex and loved to exert power over anything she could whether it was charming teachers into better grades or encouraging and then rapidly discouraging his libido. She took pleasure in it. But as he quickly learned, he could reverse everything if he presented her with a nonchalant attitude or by taking control himself, something that he never realized how much he loved until they started going out. Giving her a bit of a scare also proved effective when done properly.

"I don't really know actually." he answered, staring away from her as if he was perplexed by the revelation. She pouted.

"Well, it's not normal. Did she dress you in dark clothes as a child or something? Or are you both really cynical all the time and like to express it though your choice in dress?" she asked, pushing for an answer since she was now both curious and annoyed that he wasn't more upset.

The truth would be difficult to explain, Aidan thought to himself as he paced a bit. Dark colors are comforting. They allow you to move about in the dark without being seen. They make you the smallest bit intimidating in the light. And I won't say I'm cynical, he thought, but I have always felt like there is something in me that is not right that responds to dark colors, the night, breaking rules and taboos, and people like Bianca. Maybe mum feels the same way.

"I can't remember if she did actually." he answered a still pout-faced Bianca. "But I don't think there's any more to our color preference than just a color preference."

"Oh." she replied, hoping for a more climatic answer like that the colors reflected a secret that she should share with the club. Perhaps. "We should go to the meeting now, huh?"

------------------------------------------

"A, it feels like it's been forever, man." Chad exclaimed, giving him a manly hug complete with a back pat.

"Yeah, I've been busy with . . . sleep mostly. School work too, I guess." he answered, trying not to sound too studious. Truthfully, he had been spending a lot of time out with Bianca or his roommates, especially Bradley who was starting to feel second to Bianca and could not handle the rejection even though he had turned down Aidan for women plenty of times before. Those two kept him from remembering that he technically has three best friends. Even his mum had been wanting to spend more time with him lately, but he wasn't sure why.

"What a good little boy you are." Bianca said, clutching his arm like she usually did when they were around others like herself. It was a sign of her claim on him. Chad ruffled his hair, mockingly and Aidan swatted his hand away.

"Well, _you_ keep me distracted too, I hope you know that." he said to Bianca who smiled proudly.

"Oh, I know." she said, smirking.

"Bianca!" shouted her friend, Evelyn, as she ran over to the three of them, her brown bob flying. "Oh my God, I have something really important to tell you!"

Bianca rolled her eyes so only Aidan and Chad could see. Evelyn always has something really important to tell her, ranging from putting on the wrong color eyeshadow in the morning to someone's death. Either way, she didn't care.

"Can this wait?" Bianca asked, trying to make it apparent that she was in the middle on a conversation.

"No! It most absolutely cannot!" she practically screamed, grabbing her arm and pulling it off of Aidan.

Bianca sighed. "Okay, but this better be good. Not just another one of your 'I was eavsdropping' stories."

Evelyn looked away guiltily for a second but regained her former expression and pulled her away to talk in private.

"So A, have you had her yet?" Chad asked bluntly as he took a sip from a cup he was holding. Probably not pumpkin juice, Aidan thought. Special Halloween 'punch.'

"No." he answered simply, not wanting to divulge the contents of his and Bianca's personal life without her permission. He wasn't one to talk about that sort of thing, even with his best friends.

"You're wearing her lipstick." he responded, laughing. Aidan wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smoothed down his hair for good measure.

"So why haven't you?" Chad asked avidly. "Have you _seen_ her?"

Aidan's lips turned up a bit. "It's just not the time." he answered cryptically. He really didn't think that it was a topic for discussion since they had been together less than two months. Bianca was more about teasing than actually doing. Although he didn't like the teasing, he didn't really want to have sex with her now anyway. That would almost make things too official and he still felt like he didn't know some of the most important things about Bianca yet.

"You're such a women, Lumairo." Chad said with a punch in the arm. Aidan didn't so much as flinch. "If she were my girl, I don't even think we'd be here yet. We'd be busy doing what you're not ready to do." he said with emphasis on 'busy.'

Aidan put a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, Chad. You are the horniest bastard I know." he declared, beaming with superbia. "Although I don't think I have to worry about you and Bianca. She's not the type to cheat. You keeping morals as a friend on the other hand . . ."

"Hey, I wouldn't try to take her from you but she's not as innocent as you think." Chad warned, suddenly becoming serious. "Last year we had this big Christmas party and she had a little too much to drink and ended up going off with that Daniel fella over there." he said pointing to a brown-haired guy who was chatting with another kid.

Aidan remembered him from last time. Bianca had pointed him out and told him that he always asks her out and asked Aidan to protect her from him.

"Supposedly, she did stuff for him. Well, to him. After it happened, she started avoiding him at meetings but he refuses to let her forget it. He's always making perverted jokes towards her that everyone can hear. I'm surprised you hadn't heard." Chad explained to a now angry-looking Aidan. He was furious that she hadn't told him something so important when he had effortlessly described everything there was to tell about his relationship with Essy per her requests and badgering. As little as there was to tell.

Chad sensed how on edge Aidan was and got a little nervous, in spite of the evident weight difference between the two boys. Chad may be muscle in comparison to Aidan's skin and bones but Aidan was a lot more frightening when tempestuous. His eyes got a cold look that would make anyone back away for fear of him whipping out his wand and killing them on the spot for being near him.

"But don't worry about me." Chad blurted out, trying to lighten the mood. "Bianca's way too skinny for me. I like voluptuous chicks like . . . your mum."

Aidan let out a single laugh through his nose and looked towards Bianca who was in an intense conversation with Evelyn that clearly went beyond Evelyn's usual 'he said, she said' news report.

Ignoring Chad completely, Aidan stormed across the room, carelessly stepping on one Radella 'The Strange' who had decided to sprawl out on the floor for no logical reason. She let out a pitiful squeal of pain that caused Bianca to turn around and stare into Aidan's savage, dark eyes.

"Aidan, what's - ?" she started and then suddenly stopped. Her expression was one of suppressed fear; she didn't want to show her weakness and lose control. He was clearly mad at her and her hands started to shake as she mentally explored the potential reasons why.

Breaking eye contact, she jumped back as she glanced down at the floor. A large snake, a half a meter in circumference, had been let loose in the meeting room and it seemed to be particularly transfixed on her. Had Evelyn not warned her, she would have probably not been so calm about it especially as the scaly reptile started to coil itself around her ankles, making it difficult for her to stand.

Aidan had backed away as well, remembering the snakebite in his youth that was still present in his white flesh.

"Aidan, stop it." Bianca, requested as she fell forward at the waist and then caught herself and stood erect again.

"How?" he asked. Did she expect him to just get up to it and manually unwind the snake from her ankles? Was there some spell he should know about? He had told her the story of his scar. Was she crazy?

At this point, Aidan noticed that they had an audience, an audience unwilling to offer any assistance in their dilemma but immensely engrossed in the conflict nonetheless.

"Talk to it!" she said sounding strangely unafraid for someone slowly getting tied up by a snake. It had made it up to her hips by now but she remained standing well.

"Talk to it?" Aidan asked confused. "That's ridiculous." He had heard a lot about people who can talk to snakes and he had been sure he wouldn't meet the criteria. Only Slytherin and his descendants possessed such a gift and the likelihood that he was one of them was too low to even mention as a possibility. But wait, he thought quickly. If my dad was a Slytherin, as I have almost positively determined, there is a much more likely chance than I am accounting for. And if I can, I wouldn't have noticed earlier, what with my lack of snake interaction.

"Hurry!" Bianca said, now starting to sound scared.

"_Get off of her or I'll kill you!_" Aidan threatened, drawing his wand. The snake looked at him with a blank stare mirroring the expressions on the faces of the other club members, begrudgingly uncoiled itself, and slithered away. Aidan could swear he heard the snake cursing as it moved out of a crack in the wall and disappeared.

Aidan turned to the crowd and they started whispering among themselves. Bianca attached herself to his shoulder and practically cooed, "You're a Parselmouth. Do you know what that must mean?"

He shrugged her off his shoulder dismissively and nodded.

"Yeah, I know what it means but right now, we have to talk."


	15. Chapter 14: Abduction

_**Author's Note:** I got into my top two choice colleges so life is good. That's why I had time to write! Now I just have to pick one. // Anyway, here you go. Tom is back again, not necessarily looking for trouble. Well, it only seems that way._

_Chapter 14_

The swirling orb sat in the middle of Aidan's desk, the foggy substance inside constantly moving like ever-changing clouds moving blissfully across a light-colored sky, and he stared at it with the most hatred he could muster. After divination class, a class full of thirteen year olds that he felt lacked the common sense to take a class that was less subjective, he had requested to borrow a crystal ball for "extensive self discovery outside of class time." Now that he had the globe, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with the freaking thing. Of course he wanted information on finding his father, now that he knew he was a descendent of Slytherin himself, but he hadn't exactly taken to crystal ball gazing as he had with tarot cards and tea leaves. He looked into the transparent glass and saw nothing but a concealing haze of smoke.

Aidan groaned and threw his head over the back of his chair in aggravation.

"Nothing still?" Pat asked from his meticulously made bed. He had been left to fend for himself that evening since Bradley had a date and Brody wasn't exactly the best person to be around when you want to have a good time; he was better company when you wanted to listen to dreary music and lament about how the world is a dark and gloomy place. Therefore, he had no choice but to bother Aidan although upon realizing that Aidan had already made plans with a ball of glass, he pulled out his homework and figured that as long as they communicated every few minutes, they can say there was friendly activity involved.

"I'm starting to think I'm not supposed to know." Aidan said, cynically, putting his feet up on his desk, nearing knocking it off its stand. "My past is supposed to always be nothing but smoke like my mum intended it to be."

Pat wasn't sure how to reply, since his social skills didn't stray from following Bradley who had charisma to spare, so he just grunted an acknowledgment and gathered his books, deciding that he was probably getting in the way of Aidan's concentration.

"I'm going to the library," he mumbled as walked towards the door. Aidan gave a wave-like gesture that seemed more dismissive than he intended and the door opened from the other side, barely enough to fit a book through. Brody's mop of dark brown curls was thrust through the crack in the door as if opening it the whole way would be a pointless effort.

"Aidan, I found your girlfriend wandering around outside of the dorm entrance. Should I let her in?" he asked, every word containing a drawn out sigh. Pat pushed passed him to get out, praying that he'd find something mildly interesting at the library in a book or a student.

"Yeah, go ahead." Aidan said, taking his feet off his desk, his posture slouched in a more relaxed position. He closed his eyes and started to run through a catalog in his mind. He didn't want word of his ancestry becoming common knowledge; he preferred to live his life under the radar and that kind of information would certainly make him a household name, being the last Slytherin descendant, excluding his father who could still be alive. Not to mention the stigma such a title comes with. Everyone who isn't a Slytherin will consider him to be the highest evil next to the rising Dark Lord and all of a sudden, almost everyone is an enemy.

But do I agree with any of Slytherin's ideals? Aidan wondered to himself, having never actually considered it.

"Crystal balls, huh?" Bianca said, her chin resting on his shoulder as she stared at the object on his desk. "Could this be an attempt at reaching your father?" she asked with vigor that she was trying to suppress.

Aidan nodded. "An unsuccessful one."

Bianca walked over to the wooden desk and sat down on it, staring at him critically. His dark lips were curled down in an irritated frown and his eyes were intense, as if he was on the edge, really to lash out, an expression she was seeing more of recently instead of his usual calm demeanor.

"Are you still mad about what I told you?" she asked, gripping the underside of the desk and leaning back a bit, blonde tresses swaying.

After last month's meeting, he had demanded that she tell him everything about her past relationships and she, finding that he frightened her greatly, had given every detail until he was satisfied: three ex-boyfriends, two one-night mistakes, and, as Chad had predicted, a teasing nature when it came to sex. It took Aidan a few days to blow off steam from finding out that so far their situation was nothing special for her but, with reassurance from Bianca that the past is in the past, he had gone back to normal.

"That was weeks ago. Of course, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at that piece of work." he said, motioning with his head towards the unresponsive crystal ball.

Bianca hopped off the desk and walked up behind Aidan to view the globe from his perspective. "I used to be decent at this." she said, resting her chin on his shoulder.

In soft breaths she whispered in his ear, "Turn out all outside distractions and stare only at the ball. Surround yourself in what you do know about your father: his relation to Slytherin, his relation to your mother, all the qualities about you that had to have come from him."

He can talk to snakes. He was in Slytherin house. He was probably a friend of mum's in school. He gave me dark eyes and a tolerance for cold.

"Imagine what you think he looks like."

He would be tall and lean with dark hair and eyes, pale skin like mum and me, and he'd wear black. He has a smirk on his face for some reason.

"Now ask."

Bianca gently licked his ear but he ignored her completely. She smiled in approval, knowing he was concentrating hard enough to get an answer.

"What will lead me to my birth father?"

The smoke began to clump together to form a square shaped mass in the center of the sphere. It resembled a book until creases began to form in the cover.

A newspaper.

The smoke started to clear from parts on the cover so that words slowly became legible._ The Daily Prophet_. "This Year's Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts!" 1944-1945.

Mum's seventh year. She was the Head Girl.

The Head Boy . . .

"Do you see anything?" Bianca asked, rubbing his shoulders.

He looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you Bianca."

------------------------------------------------

"Magdalena!! Get your arse out here!!" Shouted a female voice, higher than Magdalena's.

In her room, Magdalena pulled her blue satin sheets up to the headboard of her bed and smiled. The interruption was unexpected and yet, somehow always anticipated. "Oh no, not you!" she called back sarcastically as she finished making her bed.

"Yes, it's me!" the voice called back with a tone of false irritation. "Come out of your room so I can get a good look at you!"

Magdalena opened the door to her bedroom to see her best friend, Adonia, standing in front of her. Adonia is what people call "a statuesque beauty," primarily in reference to her shocking height. In her youth, she could have been a model with her graceful figure and natural white-blonde hair but she never did have the patience for anything, especially the toll such a career would run on her mind. Now, only slightly older than Magdalena, she was still beautiful but had not aged as well as her friend, with a hint of wrinkles forming around her eyes and in her smile but she had the vivacious personality of a girl in her teens. She was wearing a flowing dress with a bold orange, yellow, and brown floral print that very few people could pull off and lots of gold jewelry to highlight her light hair and tanned skin.

Both physically and mentality, the two women seemed to be opposites of each other in every sense but when people said this to them, they would laugh and say their eyes were what connected them. Adonia's are a light ice blue almost identical to Magdalena's.

"You're gorgeous!" Adonia squeaked, clapping her hands together, her numerous gold bracelets clanging together in a supporting chorus.

"It really hasn't been that long sense we've seen each other. You take about it like it's been years." Magdalena said, recalling a lunch out about a month ago. "To what do I owe this pleasure anyway?"

"A belated birthday outing, of course!" Adonia said, like it should have been obvious. "I've been busy, as I'm sure you have but today we are cancelling all plans and going out shopping so go put on something bright, not those dark colors you usually wear, and meet me in the living room!"

Magdalena rolled her eyes and shut the door. Swinging open the doors to her closet, she instantly selected a red dress, a black cardigan sweater, and black heeled shoes. She dressed quickly but when she walked into the living room, Adonia gave her a sour face.

"That doesn't look like something to wear out to shop. It looks like a date outfit." she said, scratching her head.

"You said a bright color." Magdalena pointed out, walking over to her. "I'm almost as tall as you now." she observed, pointing to her shoes.

Adonia laughed. "Not so short now, huh?"

"Average height for women is around 160cm. I think 168cm is only short to you." she said, shaking her head. Adonia can be such a character. "Let's go."

----------------------------

The streets of Diagon Alley were crawling with people. Since it was the weekend older women out having lunch with themselves or a friend and twenty-somethings going in and out of clothing stores trying to find that one perfect thing were the most prevalent shoppers. There were even a few families with kids too young to be in school yet, crying and wailing like they were being tortured by the necessary errands. Magdalena guessed that Aidan was probably in Hogsmeade with his friends.

After two hours, Magdalena and Adonia already had a few shopping bags and sore feet that throbbed in pain so they sat together on the nearest bench, verbally running through all the stores they still need to go in.

"We have to go to the bookstore after this." Magdalena insisted. "I'm sick of clothes shopping and I need something to read, not just for fun but for research too."

Adonia arched a pale eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving research up to Liam?"

Magdalena sighed and kicked off her shoes, letting out a slight sigh at the relief her soles felt. "You've met him. He's smart, don't get me wrong, but sometimes he looks over the most important details. Not to mention his innate ineptness in the department of physical balance. Anything I can send to him would be worth the effort."

Adonia nodded in agreement and stretched her arms over her head, staring out into the masses of people walking by with a pensive look in her eye.

"Magdalena, you are the one who's always thinking about things. How is it that two fine women like ourselves are not married?" she asked, turning to her as she spoke.

Magdalena shrugged apathetically. "Apparent arrogance?"

"Be serious!" Adonia demanded, mildly nettled.

"You get bored too easily. You have so many suitors who would love to have you for their own and you end up trying a relationship with all of them once the one you are with becomes repetitive and dull." Adonia looked away as if she was contemplating what her friend had said, knowing that it was the truth even if it did burn a little. "My problem is that I have no time or interest in pursuing a relationship with someone who I don't already know well. There are too many bad catches out there. Besides, I am forty years old! If I haven't found a husband by now, I'm sure I won't find one in the future and I don't have the time to waste trying to find one."

Adonia's head shot up in shock. "Oh don't be so cynical!"

"I'm not being cynical; I'm being truthful. No one would want me now. I don't see why I would need a husband anyway. I'm happy." she said, her expression remaining calm. "I have a, well, two good jobs that pay well, I have a beautiful, intelligent son, I have good friends, and I have already made a contribution to benefit our kind. I'm doing quite well."

"You're so full of it!" Adonia said, throwing her hands up dramatically. She could have made it as an actress as well, it seems. "You and I both know you could get a man half your age to fall head over heels for you. And in spite of all these 'wonderful' things, you still don't smile."

"You've been my best friend for years. Have I ever struck you as the type to smile?" She asked, slipping her feet back into her shoes. She didn't want to discuss relationships of all things right now. It had been weeks since what she had come to refer to as her act of weakness and thinking about it made her physically ill.

Adonia tilted her head slightly. "No, but still. What bad things are going on in your life? Something must be keeping you from being as happy as you could be." Even if there wasn't, Adonia could never believe that a person who is enjoying their life wouldn't smile.

"Now who's cynical?" Magdalena asked, playfully. "Well, to answer your question, my mum's health is always on my mind but as long as she's happy, that's the best I could hope for. I worry about Liam a lot but so far there haven't been any accidents so that's comforting. And I guess trying to work on potions development to stop this Dark Lord in my spare time adds some unneeded pressure. But I really am happy."

Adonia hopped off the bench at this and got in front of Magdalena almost threateningly. "But where's the love? Where's the passion?! The romance?!"

Magdalena just smiled and shook her head. She stood up and grabbed her shopping bags and purse, still chuckling at Adonia's showy persistence.

"The bookstore is this way. Come on."

---------------------------------

The second Magdalena opened the door to Flourish and Blotts, she was in heaven. The smells of books, both new and old, permeated the store and filled her nostrils, instilling her with a rare sort of calm. She closed her eyes in relish.

"You really don't get out much anymore, huh?" Adonia joked, patting her on the shoulder.

Magdalena opened her eyes and laughed. "I guess your job is to force interaction on me."

"Right! So what are you looking for?" Adonia asked, turning towards the nearest shelf and examining the new fictions.

"Well, I think I'll go look for books on dark magic for research and you can look for something worthwhile to read for fun."

"Hm, I think you could use a romance." Adonia said, pulling down one such book from the shelf and reading the back.

Magdalena shook her head. Adonia has a one-track mind, it seems. "I'll meet you in front of the stairs in ten minutes." she told her, wondering if Adonia had even heard her. She seemed too engrossed in the book's description.

Magdalena knew the store like the back of her hand. The dark magic books were kept in the back of the first floor, past the register so that little kids could not get by without someone seeing them. She passed by the counter and smiled at the man working there. She remembered him from the last time she had been buying books and he smiled back, not remembering her but not being able to resist a smiling at a pretty face.

She started to scan the titles, most she had read before or seen somewhere and didn't think would help. Some of them were clearly used, the corners torn up and the bindings unstable but some of the old-fashioned magic was being used by this Dark Lord so they proved themselves to be very helpful. Magdalena pulled out a book that looked centuries old, memorized a few paragraphs that stuck out to her about memory charms and put the book back, moving further along the shelf.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, cold and tight-fisted; she instantly knew it was not Adonia. The hand's long fingers gripped her painfully and pulled her forward, through the bookshelf and books so that she found herself outside, behind the building and pressed up against the brick wall of the bookstore. She was finally allowed to get a look at her abductor and when she saw who it was, she stopped planning immediate physical defense and started planning a way to talk herself out of her situation first.

"Magdalena Celeste Lumairo." he said as if he was surprised to see her even though he had clandestinely tracked her down in order to catch her in this predicament.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." she answered in the same tone, mockingly.

"No need for formalities." he said, smirking as he grasped her shoulder tighter. She made an impulsive attempt to kick him but he quickly pressed a bent leg across both of hers to keep her immobile against the wall.

"I'm sure this is sexual harassment of some sort. If anyone were to walk by, they'd probably suspect that you're going to rape me." she said with a threat on her lips. "Now if you could let me go before I get out of your hands myself and punch you in the face, we could both be on our merry way, leading separate lives."

He grinned back at her in an detestably sure way. "You have already succumbed to me twice. What more has to happen for you to accept the fact that you want to be with me?"

"For my feelings of disgust towards your arrogant actions and beliefs to dissipate." She said pushing all her weight on him quickly in a fruitless attempt at freeing herself. He shook his head at her like she was a child.

"But doesn't my arrogance charm you? The fact that I am confident and know what I want is appealing to you, isn't it?" he asked, running the index finger on his free hand over her lips.

"Shut up." she snapped, turning her head away from him so he would stop touching her. "I am not going to fuck you and I would be very appreciative if you would get out of my life."

Her words would have stung if he had believed them.

"That's not why I came here." he said, now sounding unusually serious.

She turned her head back towards him disbelievingly. "Then why did you come here?"

"To ask if you would like to get a drink with me." he said as if it was the most casual thing in the world.

Magdalena laughed out loud at this. "A date? You're mad." she said, laughing harder.

"Maybe I am but is it really so strange for two former lovers who still have feelings for each other to go out, just to see if they still have a chance?"

"In this case, it is beyond strange." she answered, reaching up her hand to try to hit him but getting stopped by him before she could reach. He noted that she didn't deny having feelings for him.

"I'm not going to let you go until you say yes." he said happily even though it sent a chill down her spine, not so much of fear but of unfamiliarity.

"And how do you expect to do that?" she asked, challenging him.

He pulled his wand out of his coat pocket and held it up so she could see it. "With your chosen attire, I don't see any pocket that could be holding yours." he said, looking her up and down.

If Magdalena could have moved her legs, she would have kicked herself for her careless mistake. She had a few potions in her purse but she had dropped it on the ground by her feet when she was held down against the brick like a prisoner. She didn't have a choice; he would bind her in chains if it took that to make her say yes.

"Fine, I'll go out with you." she said, unwillingly accepting her defeat. "But, I'm here with a friend so I'll have to tell her that I have to ditch her for someone who is making me date him by force." Magdalena said, suddenly realizing that she really did want to go out with him, not for self-fulfillment but because it would enable her to research her theory on his connection to the Dark Lord. He has to at least be a follower, she thought to herself. But he doesn't like following at all so it is very possible he is the Dark Lord himself, even if reports on the man's physical appearance do not match his.

He already knew about Adonia, that damn mudblood, but he also knew she so wanted Magdalena to find a man that she would definitely leave her alone for a date. "Okay, but I suggest you leave out the last part so she doesn't worry and I'm coming with you so you can't run away from me." he said releasing all but the hand around her wrist.

"Fine." Magdalena said, walking him around the side of the building to the front door. "You must be really desperate to hold someone hostage so they'd get a drink with you." she mumbled, more to herself than to him.

"A little." he answered honestly. "I think of it more as knowing what I want and going after it no matter what."

When they opened the door to Flourish and Blotts, Tom slipped his hand into Magdalena's to make holding her near him less suspicious. Adonia was waiting by the stairs with a few books in her hands. Her eyes widened instantly when she caught sight of the couple. Magdalena forced Tom to let go and he had to, to keep up a normal appearence.

"Who's that?" Adonia whispered, looking at Tom and smiling.

"Adonia, this is Tom, an old . . . acquaintance of mine. Tom, this is my best friend, Adonia."

Tom reached out his hand to her amiably and she shook it.

"Pleased to meet you." he said, stifling his bias and masking it with a facade of congeniality.

"Likewise." Adonia said, winking subtly at Magdalena as if to say, 'nice catch'. Magdalena did not respond.

"Tom has asked me to have a drink with him but I told him that I am here with company." she said, waiting for Adonia's inevitable objection.

"No, no! You two go out! I was thinking about going home anyway. I have housework to do and . . . books to read," she said motioning to the ones in her arms. "You go have fun!"

"Okay, if you insist." Magdalena said, trying to sound enthusiastic and failing miserably as she gave Adonia a hug. "Bye."

"I'll talk to you later!" Adonia said cheerily. "For all the juicy details." she said quietly, so only Magdalena could hear. She snatched up her bags so Magdalena would only have to carry her purse and skipped off to the register to pay for the books.

Magdalena watched her leave and then turned back to Tom.

He smiled and reached out his hand.

"Shall we?"

---------------------------------

Magdalena fell down onto her bed, her head reeling in confusion and frustration. Of all things, the night had been . . . perfect.

They went to the Leaky Cauldron and sat at their own table, drinking a bottle of red wine over the sound of people having animated conversations over things like 'who won the latest Quidditch match' and 'what the Ministry's been up to.' He completed her on her dress and told her that red looked good on her.

They talked about average things. He told her the he runs and lives at a shop that sells antique magical items in Little Hangleton. The town meant as little to her as it seemed to mean to him. She told him that she would have expected him to have a job of more caliber and he told her that he was just doing what he enjoyed. He told her stories about some of his employees, including Lestrange who Magdalena mentioned seeing recently event though she intentionally left out the fact that it was on platform nine and three quarters. She told him that he hit on her and Tom said he'd set Lestrange straight.

He told her that he tried to be a professor in defense against the dark arts but got turned down because they already had one. At first Magdalena thought this was a useful piece of information, with a job like that he could corrupt so many young minds, but she then remembered that it was his favorite subject in school so the deduction was no longer as valid.

She told him about work with the Ministry and Hogwarts and Liam, excluding what they were researching, and about her mom and her condition, searching his eyes for fear. She had become crippled at the hand of the Dark Lord for protecting a muggle-born. She saw no signs of worry in his face and he delivered nothing but sympathy.

They talked about books, movies, music as the bottle slowly drained. They were humored to find that they had both taken a sudden interest in plays by muggles; he reading Shakespearian tragedies and her reading works by the American playwright, Tennessee Williams. She recommended music to him and he took note of the names to look up later.

And when he finally said he had to go home, they walked outside together and found themselves kissing against the sidewall of the bar like a couple of tipsy, hormonal teenagers.

"We should do this again," he said, brushing the hair out of her eyes, taking note of those moon earrings she still wears after all these years. "I'll be busy for a long while but maybe a little less than two weeks from now? I'm really booked."

"Okay." she found herself saying as they parted ways. "Good-bye."

She let out a sound of wrath into her pillow.

"How?" she asked herself out loud. "How could I have forgotten to ask research questions?"

Everything had been too perfect.


	16. Chapter 15: Photograph

_**Author's Note:**__ This story has five, yes, five, chapters left. Over my Spring Break I settled down and planned out the rest of the story so I could finish it sometime in the summer. Enjoy. Review._

_Chapter 15_

The library storage closet was the most likely place in the entire castle to die from asphyxiation due to massive amounts of weight crushing you to death. Although it looked small from the outside, once the intimidating librarian led Aidan into the closet he was overwhelmed with floor to ceiling racks of books, periodicals, and references and instantaneously developed an image of them all crashing to the floor with him on the bottom of the pile, struggling for just one small breath of air.

"The old issues of _The Daily Prophet _are kept over here." the disgruntled librarian's assistant mumbled in an apathetic drawl as she motioned to a general area that was of no help to him. "The shelves are labeled by year. Don't get them out of order." She threatened, tapping a claw-like nail against the nearest shelf to indicate the date. "So good luck finding what you're looking for." She said caustically and then proceeded to slam the door so hard that some of the papers fell off the rank leaving Aidan responsible to pick them up again.

He walked cautiously though the room, his path lit by a dull light in the center of the room. He eyed it briefly wondering what bewitchment was placed on it because it did not look like a flame nor electricity. The luminescence only made the room seem more like a death chamber.

Even with the funereal glow, Aidan was able to find the newspapers, labeled poorly and sporadically. He let out a sigh and unwillingly lowered himself onto the dingy floor. Why would such a neurotic librarian leave this room to rot so unapologetically?

After twenty minutes, Aidan had successfully gone through one forth of the papers from 1944 with no headlines even remotely close to what he was looking for. He did, however, successfully find in depth analyses on Grindlewald and what caused his behavior, Quidditich matches of the past, and a review the then latest novel by some best-selling author. Aside from skimming the Grindlewald articles out of a natural, unexplainable curiosity, he had found nothing of interest or importance.

"Loomy! You in here?" shouted Bradley following the sound of the rusty-hinged door opening.

"Yeah." Aidan shouted back into the abyss, barely able to make out his friend silhouette through the bookshelves, a bright light outlining his form. "Follow the sound of my voice and don't touch anything. When it comes to organization of this place, the slightest bump could trigger a domino effect."

He looked up from the periodicals to see a droopy-eyed Bradley gracefully leaning against the only empty wall with his arms crossed and his hair mussed. He hadn't even heard him walk over.

"And you're doing what?" Bradley asked lazily, raising his eyebrows. As far as Aidan knew, he didn't come back to the room the night before so he assumed he was at some all night party or hanging out with his new girlfriend. He wasn't in any classes either so where he had been all day was a mystery.

Not that this was the first time he had not seen his roommate in nearly twenty-four hours. In spite of his intelligence, Bradley occasionally found certain pressing matters more dire than the need to learn which constellation is in Jupiter this week and he always caught up without a hitch; very much the opposite of Bianca who fell behind simply because she did not consider school a priority.

"Research." Aidan said quickly, as he took a large stack of _Daily Prophets_ and fanned them out on the floor in front of him to make the process of reading the titles more efficient.

Bradley pushed himself off the wall with a forceful back undulation and crouched down in front of Aidan. "School research or paternal research?" he asked, picking up the nearest newspaper and admiring the articles.

"The latter." Aidan said, moving onto another paper. "If you're going to stay here, you may as well help. I'm looking for a headline, front page, regarding the Head Boy and Girl. They're all the same year." he said, motioning to his piles.

Silently and languidly, Bradley pulled the nearest pile closer to him as an affirmation that he would volunteer.

"So how are things between you and that Bianca girl?" Bradley asked disdainfully, to permeate the quiet with any noise, no matter what the topic.

"Fine." Aidan answered brusquely. Although he thought of his two best friends equally, he would have given Chad specifics had he asked the same question. Bradley would have only scowled at detail and then changed the subject to something that did not make him physically ill.

Bradley nodded, biting back his biases as they threatened to break free. What constitutes as being a good friend, telling him that his girlfriend seems like she is going to get him into trouble that he may not be able to reason his way out of or hiding your theories and letting him discover who she truly is on his own? Bradley had been consistently at ease when it came to his friend's relationship but he was no fool. His tone could not be fully stifled to Aidan's sensitive perception but so far neither of them wanted to discuss this in specifics.

His girlfriend, Kate, who was not one for gossip, had voiced her concerns as well. She had heard that Bianca is actually a heavy supporter of the Dark Lord and wants more than anything to be in his inner circle. Although they were aware that this could have just been an abominable rumor, the more Bradley though about it, the more the description fit.

"Bradley? Did you hear me?" Aidan asked, shaking his shoulder lightly.

"No, Loomy. I'm really tired." he said, knowing tired sounded better than deep in thought at this point. "What did you say?"

"I asked how you and Kate are." Aidan said, looking back to the papers.

"We are good." Bradley said, perking up and beaming his confident smile that was not given justice in the darkened room. "Last night her roommates had to kick me out because we were up late talking and then we moved on to noisier activities." he said immodestly.

Aidan laughed and shook his head. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Brad. So how long will this last?"

Suddenly Bradley developed a look that was uncommon for him as he said in a tone that was strangely hushed, "Actually, I think I love her. I mean, she's the first girl I've ever felt like I can really talk to about anything and I can enjoy the talking element so much that it doesn't even matter if we move onto anything else. I can just look at her and know everything is alright."

Bradley laughed and ran his fingers through his reddish-brown hair. "That sounds so corny."

Aidan head shot towards Bradley and he received a gentle smile. "I never thought I'd see the day." Aidan said, causing Bradley to chuckle.

For a while, neither boy said anything, mostly because nothing could really top Bradley's news but also because Aidan was absorbed in thoughts of Bianca.

Do I enjoying talking to her a lot? I guess I do, Aidan decided hesitantly. She and I don't have discussions as much as say Bradley and I or Chad and I. She tells me stories about people she knows or people she sees and does not like and then she asks about my father search. Aside from that, our time is spent with activities, outings, generally things that require minimal talking. And looking at her and knowing everything is all right . . . not quite. Looking at her makes things more confusing actually. Her eyes are bottomless pits full of secrets and her dark red lips always curl in a lascivious manner if I stare at her too long. Her mystery makes her alluring but . . .

Aidan cut his thought short when he saw the next paper in his pile, the front page headline reading "This Year's Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts!" It must have been a slow news day.

He held the paper closer to the light and scanned the article, the phrase, "photographs on page four," jumping out at him. He anxiously flipped to page four and stared in awe at the photo he saw there.

It was his mother when she was his age, nothing about her appearance very surprising, but standing next to her was . . . him.

"Whoa, Loomy. You look like you've seen the portal to Hell. What are you looking at?" Bradley asked, standing up and peering over Aidan's shoulder. "The chick is really pretty."

"That's my mum." Aidan said, unfazed. He was used to Bradley saying things like that.

"So, who's the guy?" Bradley asked, realizing that Aidan's mum must not be the important part of the picture if he didn't immediately explain something.

Aidan held the newspaper up to Bradley. "Who does he look like?"

Bradley snatched the paper from his hands and squinted at the picture. After a second he looked over at Aidan and then back down at the picture.

"Eerie." Bradley cooed, giving the paper back to Aidan. "Looks like you found your dad. This explains why you're such a damn overachiever. Make a copy of that photo."

Aidan nodded and pulled a blank sheet of paper out of his pocket and his wand. He was a step ahead of him. He touched the wand to the photo and then to the blank paper, mumbling a spell under his breath. Slowly the photograph formed on the paper.

This is my father, Aidan thought reading the caption. _Tom Riddle, a Slytherin_ . . . He is a descendent of Salazar. He can talk to snakes like me and just as I assumed, he looks like me. At least now I have a name to go by.

I wonder what happened between him and my mum, Aidan wondered. Dippet had mentioned seeing her with a Slytherin boy once. Not on occasion. Not at lunchtime or in the library studying together. Once.

A secret relationship, Aidan thought. I was right. But why did it end? Why has he been erased from my life?

Slytherin. Slytherins in general, in particular Salazar, the one who started it all, are notorious for being discriminatory against muggle-borns and I know that if there is one thing mum can't tolerate it's close-minded, prejudice people.

"Hey Bradley. I never asked, you're not muggle-born are you?"

Bradley furrowed his brows, looking bothered. "Did that Bianca girl put you up to this?"

"No. I'm just curious." He said, the thought that Bianca could be hostile towards muggle-borns too coming into his mind.

"I'm not, but Pat is. He never talks about himself but you can tell in his face that he's really nervous with this whole Dark Lord thing that's going on now. I'm sorta half. My dad is but my mum is pure. Less confusing than Brody. His family is so messed up he's got muggle-borns, squibs, the whole deal. At family reunions they practically have to go around to everyone saying, 'excuse me, are you a wizard or not?'"

Aidan laughed dryly and stood up. "We should leave. Mademoiselle Pince is probably ready to jinx us once we leave if a single paper is torn."

Bradley nodded and stood, his eyes transfixed on the bare bulb in the middle of the closet.

"This light suits you." He said sounding almost ominous.

"Are you smashed?" Aidan asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"No, Aidan give me credit for having a little sense. I'm pretty tired so this is probably just babble anyway but I am serious. This light suits you."

"How so?" Aidan asked skeptically.

Bradley thought for a second. "Instead of seeing all of you, I can only see a vague outline. I can tell for the most part that it's you but there's still a probable chance that I am looking at someone else. I just can't tell for sure because the light causes a blur and some thick shadows." He stopped talking and rubbed his temples vigorously. "Man, I should go take a nap."

-------------------------

As Aidan walked back to his room to change out of his school clothes before a date with Bianca, he started to think about Pat and his parents, the idea that he could have an underlying genetic prejudice running through his mind. He had never particularly liked Pat. Hell, he preferred Brody over Pat simply because Brody has opinions and doesn't care what people think of him. Pat just follows everything Bradley says and does like an obedient dog because he doesn't have a personality of his own to dazzle the masses with. He stands by Bradley and somehow, make himself believe he fits in.

Was he brought up that way in his muggle household?

Aidan sped up his pace as he turned the corner.

Is that a bias thought?

Before his mind could refocus and convince himself that he was letting his mind stroll on dangerous lands, he found himself falling backwards onto the floor. Luckily, whoever he bumped into wasn't big enough to send him falling too far because he was able to avoid hitting his head too hard on the ground. He gritted his teeth in anger as his head throbbed in pain. Slowly opening his eyes, the smudged face of his ex-girlfriend, Essy, came into focus.

She was not as pretty as he remembered. Her once mousy brown hair now contained red and blonde highlighted that were not flattering to her at all. Her face looked distorted somehow which seemed to be because she had applied too much make-up and done so incorrectly and she looked like she had gained a lot of weight all in her midsection. All of the changes to her appearance made her look older but not in an aesthetically pleasing way.

She cupped her hands over her mouth in melodramatic shock. "Oh my God! Aidan are you okay? I was running and I wasn't looking where I was going and. . ."

"I'm fine." Aidan interrupted, having forgotten how shrill her voice is, especially when she panicked. "Don't worry about it." he said, standing up, a bit unsteady at first, his coordination thrown from the fall.

"Okay." she said blithely, picking up five of so books that she dropped when she crashed into him, a main contributor to the force that caused him to fall. Aidan stared at her, almost bothered that she had not persisted in questioning about his well-being, but decided to disregard it. Essy had always cared more about herself than others and any possible injuries that she may have caused would only put a damper on her parade. Maybe if she had someone to care about her in an overbearing amount, she could focus more on others, Aidan contemplated.

Then he had a thought.

"Essy, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, sure that according to the unwritten rules of avoiding social awkwardness he should be punished for asking such a question.

Essy's face grew grave. "Oh, Aidan. I'm not interested in getting back together."

Aidan turned his head slightly and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to. I have a girlfriend. I'm only asking because I know someone who likes you a lot."

Essy's face lit up. She's one of those girls who fishes for compliments every chance she gets. That's why she's so domineering in relationships; she's insecure. Kind of like Brody only less mirthless.

"Who?" she asked avidly, leaning uncomfortable close to Aidan. He took a step back wondering if he should actually tell her. He hadn't intended to but if it would get Brody out-and-about, he may as well.

"Brody Craightton."

Essy looked away for a second with a scrutinizing look on her face as if she was trying to figure out if this was a good or bad thing and made a low 'hm' sound.

Aidan waited for her to say something and when she didn't he lost his patience. She tapped her cheek in consideration.

"I've got to go." Aidan said quickly, tiring of her presence.

She didn't look up.

-------------------------

Aidan sat in the Astronomy Tower, listlessly staring at the grass below that was covered in shadows from the night sky, only slightly illuminated by the full moon above. A cold breeze blew in through the windowless tower, grazing his arms and face but not inducing a response. He propped his chin up on his fist, still thinking about his father. Mum didn't raise me to be like that, he thought to himself guiltily. Why did she even date a Slytherin? Were they friends? Maybe she really was raped.

"What's wrong, Aidan?" Bianca murmured, running her fingers through his jet-black hair. He had been perched quietly and pensively on the bench for nearly ten minutes and she was getting bored. Although Aidan did spend a lot more time thinking than anyone else she had dated, she didn't expect it to encumber her time with him.

"I have a lot on my mind." he said vaguely. He didn't want to tell her about what he found out in the library. She already seemed know about his lineage if she had gone so far to test his ability to talk to snakes in such a dangerous way; what's not to say she didn't already know who his father is? Maybe even where he is. It had been no coincidence, he knew, when he walked into that first club meeting and was met with only the probing, judgmental eyes of Slytherin students. Aidan had been wondering as of the last meeting if they wanted to make him president or something because of his genealogy. The only thing that didn't really fit in his mind is if the club was supposed to be some kind of hate group, why had they not done anything hateful? In fact, the club seemed more social than anything and it was downright intoxicating to converse with people on the opposite side of the spectrum who were practically worshiping him now.

"I could help clear it for you." she whispered, pressing herself against him. Her soft hand carefully moved up to turn his head away from the ground and towards her dark red lips. She pulled him down on top of her on the bench, her hands sliding underneath his shirt to feel his chest which was as cold as the December air around them.

"I love you." she whispered into his neck, gasping for air.

Aidan thought of Bradley and Kate.

"I love you too." he said, not really sure if he meant it or not.


	17. Chapter 16: Attack

_**Author's note:**__ Okay, first off I'm sorry. I wrote the first half of this chapter a month ago and then all of June I was too busy to write. But now, I have graduated and my days will be consumed with nothing but work and boredom so I will have time. I will finish before September so don't worry. I hope this chapter is long and exciting enough. Thanks for sticking with me anyway._

_Chapter 16_

"Class will be over in ten minutes. As much as I'd like to give you extra time if you don't finish, as you have learned, these potions are highly volatile when not made fully and properly and will not last longer than an hour in such a state. I can give you as much as five more minutes directly after class is over but that is it," Magdalena declared as she watched her first-year students scurrying around the room in desperate search of this worm and that liquid, trying to make the time limit since at least half the class, especially James and Sirius, had gotten distracted with conversation and had not gotten far along with the assignment.

"How does it look, Lily?" Severus asked timidly, glancing into the cauldron she was stirring. The substance was a clear blue just as the book had explained.

"May I see your textbook?" she asked. He handed it to her and took the ladle without her even having to ask.

Magdalena had noticed these little things about them, being the observant, and at times snoopy, person that she was. They worked well together, half their questions not even needing to be put into words for the other to understand as if they had some nonverbal connection. Not to mention the looks they casually exchanged when no one, but occasionally James, appeared to notice. Severus would always give Lily a grateful smile when she dealt him a compliment as if he has never heard anything so sweet and that would cause her to smile back.

"_You're not as cold and hostile as you lead people to believe," Lily had said once, quietly while in the middle of an assignment. _

"_It's people like them," he started motioning to the Back-Row Boys, as Magdalena had come to refer to them as, "that made me be cold and hostile. People are cruel." he stated bitterly, weighing out some ingredients on his scales._

_Lily had frowned, saddened by how a little bullying had left him so jaded._

"_But not you Lily," Severus said, correcting himself. "You are the most kind and caring person I've ever met. I don't even know why you waste time talking to me."_

_Lily put a hand on his shoulder and he gave a noticeable flinch. "You are a good person, Severus, a much better person than them. I want you to know that and hopefully, one day, you'll believe it."_

"Well, our color is correct but it is supposed to smell faintly of alcohol." Lily said, reading from the most current chapter they had gone over yesterday in preparation for today's lab.

They both leaned over the cauldron until their heads were touching. Lily didn't seem to notice but Severus let out a slight shiver that made Magdalena grin. Almost in unison, they inhaled deeply and started coughing a second later.

"I think faintly is an understatement." Severus said, breathing in fresh air.

Lily laughed and poured the potion into a vile on the teacher's desk that had their names on it.

"Here you go, Professor Lumairo." Lily said, handing the vile to Magdalena to be graded.

"Thank you, Lily, Severus. There's still a few minutes left in class. There's no homework so you can leave if you would like, work on another assignment, or start reading ahead if you're feeling bored or ambitious." she said with a laugh.

"Actually, I would like to go to the library, if I may. I want to get started on this research project for history class." Lily said.

"Sure, go ahead. If Mademoiselle Pince gives you any trouble just give her my name. Pincey and I don't get along but I'll straighten her out."

"Thank you." Lily said happily. She gathered her numerous textbooks books and turned to her lab partner. "Goodbye Severus."

Just as he opened his mouth to reply, the room was filled with a bombastic, "Bye, Lily!" from James to which he received an eye roll.

Magdalena ignored him and looked at Severus. "So what are you going to do?"

"Actually I was wondering if I could talk to you about something." he said, getting out of his chair and approaching her desk.

"Sure. What?" Magdalena asked, putting away the lesson plan that was open on her desk. It sounded like a serious matter and serious matters require a clear desk.

"I can't come and clean the room today because I have a long paper I have to work on but I'll be here tomorrow." he said almost like he was ashamed that he had to skip a day.

"Oh, you don't have to clean up every day." Magdalena assured him. "It usually takes longer to make a significant mess to clean. Don't worry about it."

"I know but I like to."he said lightly, glancing down at the floor. He had almost thought of Magdalena's kindness in the same way as Lily's. He didn't deserve it. "Also, I wanted to tell you that I'm going to start eating with the other kids."

"That's great!" Magdalena exclaimed, trying to keep her voice down so the other kids wouldn't start listening in. "As much as I enjoy your company I'm glad you're deciding to socialize. Anyone in particular that you are sitting with?" she asked pointedly.

Severus looked wistfully at the vile on Magdalena's desk and she knew she was right.

"Oh, I get it. Good luck." she said, nudging him playfully.

And suddenly she knew she was just a teacher, mentor, and friend. Secret crush had been deleted from the list and she couldn't have felt happier for him.

--------------------------

When Magdalena came back from getting lunch at the Great Hall there were two letters on her desk, one in a rough, plain white envelope and the other in a smooth, red one. The red one made her think of Aidan and his penchant for crimson ink but there was no reason for him to send her a letter when all he had to do was walk a handful of meters away from the castle and knock on her door. She heard an owl hoot and looked up at Apollo, who was sitting on the windowsill as if he was waiting for her to get back so he would know no one else had stolen her post.

"I have nothing for you now. Come back in a few minutes. And thank you for keeping guard. You're learning well." she praised.

The little owl cooed a sound of gratitude and flew away into a nearby tree to find entertainment amongst small woodland creatures. She carelessly plopped down into the seat at her desk, took a big bite out of her breadstick to ease her starvation, and stared down at the envelopes. The red one was from some address in Little Hangleton: Tom. She had received a letter from him about a week ago saying that he hadn't forgotten about the promise of another date but that he found himself preoccupied with work and would write her next week. She had to hand it to him; he was honest.

She tore open the letter using Slughorn's letter-opener encrusted with a Slytherin S and unfolded the letter, written in red ink.

_My Magdalena,_

_It has been busy at the shop lately, not to mention time-consuming due to the necessity of taking inventory of the entire store (a grueling chore that magic can't even make simple enough). In spite of my lack of letters, I have been thinking about you. Especially yesterday when we got a new item in, a necklace with stars on it. The stars are supposed to form constellations or something but we can't figure out how to use it. I wonder if you could. You have always had a special connection with the sky._

_Anyway, I wanted to ask if you were would like to go out with me tomorrow. Please reply soon so I can make some plans. I will come to your place at seven if you are able to go._

_Until then, Tom_

Magdalena read the letter through a second time. Hearing the words didn't set right with her the first time. The second time everything sounded ridiculously contrived. She was reminded of a different Tom than the one who wanted to have sex with her and leave. She thought of the one when they were younger, the one who was still trying to get to know her, who would tell her stories about his family and call her interesting, not sexy. The one who spoke as if from his heart, as if he secretly worshiped her and didn't even know it (or didn't want to admit it as the case most likely was). The one who she had spoken to at the bar about work and music and literature. The one who arose after he stopped holding her against the wall and making her nervous. Could it be that he wants to turn a memory screw into a real relationship?

It can't be, Magdalena thought tossing the letter almost angrily onto her desk. He has a motive other than the pleasure of my companionship. Otherwise he would have started trying to court me a lot sooner. If he gets me as a life partner now, what else does he get? A partner in crime, perhaps?

She grabbed a role of parchment and scribbled a letter back to him saying that she was free and will be ready at seven. And this time I won't forget my purpose, she added as a mental note to herself.

The letter underneath was from St. Mungo's. It must be an update on mum's condition, she thought, opening the letter. But then she noticed that it was from the emergency department and she found herself bewildered. Mum wouldn't go to emergency if she had some complication. They fix long term patients in a different ward. I would receive a letter from the floor she was staying on.

She opened up the letter and her light eyes widened after reading the first line. She quickly glanced at the grandfather clock behind her to see that the visiting hours listed in the letter were over. She would have to go tomorrow.

She cradled her head in her hands and bit back hot, stinging tears.

I will find this Dark Lord and kill him. First my mum, now this . . .

------------------------------------

The receptionist at the emergency department was a very old woman with greasy, silver hair and skin that was falling off her skull in putrid, flabby rolls. She stared sharply at Magdalena as she approached the desk. Magdalena tried to read her expression, coming up with disdain for having to actually do her job in directing her and possibly also simply because Magdalena is only middle-aged and has yet to succumb to the effects of the aging process. An envy for anyone younger than her? Thank God I'm not a teenager.

"Name?" the woman asked coldly, letting her thick glasses slid down her nose so her vision was blurred. No one looked as pretty that way.

"Magdalena Lumairo." she answered, trying to sound warm so as to break the women's hard shell.

"Why are you here?" The elderly woman practically demanded, drumming her nails on her desk. The typewriter next to her was clicking away but she sighed loudly like she was the one putting in effort.

"I'm hear to visit my friend." Magdalena said curtly. She had little tolerance for rude people and this woman was toying with her patience.

"Name?" the woman said again, now glaring like it was a challenge. The blur in front of her was evidently graveled.

"Adonia Kronotros."

"Oh, the Greek girl. How tiresome she is!" the receptionist declared, pulling out her file and shaking her head in disgrace.

Magdalena glowered and clenched her fist around her purse strap. "If you could _kindly_ point me in the direction of her room without the critique I will get out of your hair and let you go back to gnawing on that cake you're hiding under your desk." she chided flippantly.

The women pointed a yellowed finger in the direction of the room across the hall and muttered something about disrespect for your elders once Magdalena's back was turned.

Magdalena approached the room and quietly knocked on the frame of the open doorway in hopes of not waking Adonia if she was asleep. Although she was not expecting a reply, Adonia's voice shouted out, "Come in unless you're going to prod me with a needle again!"

Magdalena laughed and entered the room. It was painted a calming blue, more joyous than her mother's wing but still scented with sterile products and fecal matter. The furniture was all light wood with soft white and gray patterned fabric to accent the tranquil walls. In the center of the room was Adonia's bed that had a nightstand on each side with colorful bouquets of flowers on them and opened cards on display. She smiled when she saw her friend's face come into the light.

"Hey, Magdalena!" she said happily, trying to push herself into a sitting position and finding herself too weak to do so.

"Hi Adonia. I know you're probably sick of this question but how are you feeling? You look well." she said, grabbing a chair from the corner and pulling it up beside her bed. As she got closer to Adonia, she could barely see any physical evidence of afflictions aside from a stark pallor that was both unfamiliar and unbecoming of her.

"I am well." Adonia said, smiling. "Although I wish I didn't have to wear this hideous hospital gown." she said, motioning to her stiff, pale green attire that was akin in color to baby spew. "Your dress is lovely, by the way. Have a hot date?" she asked joking.

Magdalena smoothed out her purple, v-necked dress and tried to hide any signs in her face that Adonia had guessed correctly.

"So what's the prognosis?" Magdalena asked, changing the subject.

Adonia started fiddling with one of the long tubes connecting her to an unknown source as she spoke. "Well, I was told by my physician that most people who undergo the effect of the cruciatus curse lose their minds, especially when under the effects as long as I was but that I will be able to make a generally full return to normal level-headedness. Of course, I told them that if I do the curse has affected me greatly because I've never been level-headed!" Adonia said laughing jovially to help Magdalena loosen up. She smiled weakly in reply.

"How did it happen?" Magdalena asked gently, reaching for Adonia's hand to hold in hers.

"I was in the pub downtown, you know, the one that keeps changing its name? Well, I was just having a drink with some people from the gallery after work and it was getting late and they had all gone home. I was deep in conversation with this guy sitting next to me, not attractive at all but a good conversationalist, so I stayed and left later." She broke for a second to take a sip of water from a paper cup on her nightstand. "I wasn't doing so well when I left so I started wandering down the street until I could feel someone behind me. I started walking faster but heels and a light head don't really mix so I stumbled into an alley. Had I been able to concentrate I would have just apparated out of there but have you ever tried magic when you're drunk?"

Magdalena nodded. Although she had never tried it, she had seen others do it. The spells either didn't work or backfired dangerously.

Adonia continued. "The man, at this point I was sure it was a man, followed me into the alley and pushed me to the ground and cursed me. I couldn't really see his face in the dark. I just know he was a horrific beast, hardly a man really."

"Was he a follower or the. . ?" Magdalena didn't even want to say.

"It was him." Adonia answered quickly so Magdalena wouldn't have to finish. "I'm sure of it. Unless there is someone else walking around looking like that."

The two women were silent for a while until Adonia chimed in with, "My parents even came to visit me."

Magdalena raised her eyebrows in shock. Adonia was not on good terms with her parents, not because of her ability but because of her lifestyle. Ever since she was little they were always getting into fights over her future. They wanted her to settle and become a housewife with tons of children or at least get a steady job but she preferred moving around and changing jobs as she saw fit. For them to have visited her meant that they had to travel and go through a lot of trouble with magic folk to see her.

"How was the visit?" Magdalena asked hopefully.

Adonia pointed to a large vase of flowers. "Mum brought me those. She cried and begged me to move back home because I would be safer there. Dad spent nearly an hour talking to my doctor just to make sure he had all the information. I felt like a child." Adonia paused and then smiled brightly in her usual cheerful way.

"It felt good to be babied for once instead of chastised."

Magdalena smiled back and patted her hand. "I'm glad. Will you be moving in with them?"

"I'm thinking about it. Although I may have to reconsider if that handsome orderly asks me out once I'm freed from this dreadful place."

-----------------------------

Magdalena sat on the couch in her living room, her purse perched protectively in her lap, her hands folded, and her eyes staring hard at the wall even though her mind could not register sight. She couldn't bring herself to read or listen to music or walk around. He would be there soon and somehow she was discontent with the feeling that she had forgotten something.

She was definitely prepared in spite of her doubts. She had decided to bring a particularly large purse to accommodate her wand just in case she had to take matters in another direction. She had rehearsed with herself the bits of information she must obtain from this date and she was sure that this time she would not get distracted and forget.

A firm knock at the door awoke her from her trance.

She stood up with an anxious jolt but took slow strides to the door, each step allowing her to ask herself more questions to assure that she was prepared. She took a moment to regain a calm expression and opened the door.

His face was half-masked in shadows but an eerie smile still crept onto his face as her eyes grew hard to hide any uncertainty and cover it with happiness. He extended a hand to her with a slight gentlemanly bow that she was not accustomed to.

"Shall we?"

------------------------------

The restaurant he had taken her to was dark and intimate. Low-lighting accented tables that were so spaced out that each table felt like they were having their own personal meal alone. All the chairs were upholstered and hugged the one seated in them and the music was of the melodic jazz variety. All the waiters wore red and black attire and coy smiles as if they knew something none of their customers knew.

Once they were seated, Tom poured Magdalena some red wine which she sipped slowly and she gazed distantly out of the window diagonally behind him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, staring at her to catch her eye.

Magdalena took this opportunity to test his reactions. "My friend, Adonia, you met her. She's in the hospital." She said, sadly.

She swore she saw his mouth twitch as if it was the making of a smirk. "Oh, why is that?" he asked sounding worried.

Magdalena stared down at her silverware as if remembering something painful and then looked up at him. If she continued to stare at the tablecloth, she would not see his reaction. "She was attacked. The C-cruciatus curse. She swears that it was Voldemort."

He reached across the table to take her hand in his in a way that was similar to the way Magdalena had with Adonia. "That must be hard for you." he said.

Hard for me, Magdalena thought. He did not say anything about Adonia, just my feelings. "Thank you." she said stoically. "First my mum tries to protect a friend from a follower of Voldemort and losses her short term memory and now my best friend is attacked by him directly."

Tom looked down at their clasped hands. "You are very brave to say his name. Many are too afraid of him." he noted, ignoring her comment.

"Why should I be afraid of him?" she asked seriously. "If given the opportunity, I would fight him with no remorse. He has harmed two people who I love with all my heart and I cannot forgive him for that." She glared at him challengingly.

He smiled. If she tried to fight me, I would cast a little charm or spell on her. I would prefer that she side with me willingly but I will do what I have to do.

"Would you do that for me?" he asked.

Even if Tom and Voldemort are the same person I can still kill one and keep the other, she thought. Right? Could he be so far gone?

"Of course."

-----------------------------

"I should go home now." Magdalena said, looking up into his eyes that were black as the sky above them but reflected the moon and stars like the lake in front of them and caused them to shine in a way that she felt was too pure and placatory for someone so full of hate.

He smiled in a way that gave him a sinister visage, that of one who had a secret, self-indulgent plan. He took her hand that he was already holding and cradled it with both of his hands like it was a fragile glass miniature.

"Are you sure," he started leaning in to kiss her, "that you are ready to go?"

Inspiration hit her in an uncomfortable manner. Ask to go back to his place, her mind suggested. It would enable you to see if he is telling the truth and look around for anything suspicious.

But that's not right, another thought argued as if her brain had divided into two opposing camps. By asking to go back to his flat, you are essentially asking him to bed. Although you have done it before, doesn't it still mean that you are doing it to help further your case and not out of a genuine desire?

Then his hands, devious as is their nature, made a tantalizingly slow venture down and she decided that enough passion was there for it to not matter. She broke away from his mouth, only for him to go about worshiping her neck.

"Let's go back to your place." she said, trying to make it sound like a seductive proposition.

He did not cease his behavior in any manner, just mumbled against her neck, "I think your place would be better. I don't want you to have to go home alone. I'd invite you to stay all night but you have to teach tomorrow."

He's putting up a fight, she noted, and he sounds so casual doing it. However, she could not stifle the displeasure he had incited when he made it sound like she was incapable of defending herself against the night.

"I will be fine on my own. Thank you very much," she spat crisply. She tried to soften her voice. "Come on. I want to see your flat," she added breathily, running her hands down his back.

"Okay," he murmured back, snaking his arms around her waist.

Okay? she thought confused. Why did he just give in so easily? All night I've been collecting data on his involvement with the Dark Lord and all night I've been getting mistrustful conduct and now he has nothing to hide.

But is he really taking me to _his_ flat?

---------------------

The Riddle mansion stood in front of her, majestic and ornate and at least three stories tall. The lands were vast but empty aside from a small cottage on the far end of the land, most likely for a gardener, Magdalena thought, and what appeared to be a family graveyard only befitting of the most prestigious families who can afford to have their deceased buried a mere 150 meters away from where the living reside. The graveyard gave her a feeling of déjà vu that she just couldn't place.

"You call this a flat?" Magdalena asked, suddenly overcome with a rush of familiarity. Where have I seen this place before, she wondered.

"No. You did." he said, correcting her. "I used to have a flat above my store but I had to convert it into more storage space. Then I remembered that this place was still available and since I am the last living member of the clan, acquiring it was simple." he said, unlocking the door and opening it up for her.

Not that there ever was another flat, he thought to himself. I quit working at Borgin and Burke's long ago and it's not as if I owned that place or lived in it.

Magdalena entered the building, staring up at the crystal chandelier above her, her eyes gradually falling onto the large, red rug covering the staircase in front of her. It reminded her of the sort of place one would want to host a function in.

"It's beautiful." she murmured, not taking her eyes off the portraits that lined the visible wall of the second floor. All the family members were attractive but snotty looking individuals dating back to the man who had established the Riddle fortune and had the house built. "Your father looks just like you," she said, pointing to the most recent painting, nearest to the top of the stairs. And just like Aidan, she added mentally.

Tom flinched noticeably. He wanted to take down those paintings so much but he knew that he could not maintain the facade of normalcy if he were to rid the estate of everything that directly reminded him of his father and grandparents. Before Magdalena had even entered he had to mentally run through a checklist to make sure that if her curiosity got the better of her that she wouldn't happen to stumble upon something that would point to his real identity.

"I'm sorry," Magdalena said, sincerely. "I had forgotten about what he did to you and your mum. That was careless of me."

"That's alright." he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, her mistake instantly forgiven. "Would you like a tour?" he asked, nuzzling her neck affectionately.

---------------------------------

Magdalena slid her hand under the bed to find her purse. Once he had eagerly pulled her into the bedroom she had intentionally dropped her bag onto the floor as close to the bed as she could manage and subtly kicked it underneath so she could reach for her wand when they were done. It was difficult to conduct research when your prime suspect won't let you out of their sight so she knew she would have to resort to more conniving tactics.

Tom wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer into his cold body. She moved her legs a bit to make enough noise to cover up the sound of her opening and closing her purse.

"I love you" he said, kissing her passionately after she turned inward to face him.

She did not reply. She didn't believe him.

While their lips were still locked, preventing speech, and his eyes closed so that he would not notice, she used a nonverbal spell to put him to sleep.

Once his grip had loosened and he was lying on his back with his eyes shut, she picked his arm off of her back and placed it by his side. Slowly turning, she placed her feet onto the floor with a barely audible creak of the floorboards and stealthily walked across the room to pick up her purple dress that he had flung across the room in the heat of the moment. She threw it on gracefully and, not even bothering to get her shoes, slipped outside and walked towards the family graveyard.

Sometime during Tom's tour of the house, she had remembered her dream at the beginning of September where she was in that same graveyard with Aidan and _him_ after Aidan had found out the truth about his father that lead to one or both of their deaths. She had already planned on putting him to sleep right after he got what he had been expecting from her, but now she felt driven to inspect the graveyard above all the rooms inside the house where he had inevitably concealed anything shady with the upmost care and detail.

She walked along the frozen ground, trying to nullify the sound of her breathing even though the only people around were no longer breathing anyway. Then a grave stopped her in her tracks with his tall statue and ivy-adorned tombstone. She traced the inscription on Tom's father's headstone with her fingers as her vision blurred and went black.

Her mind opened up to a scene of the inside of the mansion, three bodies laying on the expensive rugs. No blood was surrounding them as murder scenes typically appear but every corpse held a horrified expression as if they knew of their fate in the fleeting seconds before their death. As she got nearer, she recognized the faces, through the terrified distortion, as the ones in the paintings: Tom Sr. and his parents.

Suddenly, her mind's eye panned to an open window where a benign summer breeze was blowing into the house and the undeniable figure of Tom at sixteen was walking out of the grounds proudly, a wand held in his hand.

Opening her eyes, Magdalena had another memory, although this one was self-induced. She remembered the night she and Tom had broken up and one thing in particular that he had said to he before she had left him. He had told her that he killed his father. He has killed before, an important detail that she had somehow overlooked. Therefore, there is nothing stopping him from killing again if he wishes. The pride he felt from his first murders only shows the satisfaction that he can derive from eliminating those who he feels need to die.

But the question still remains, she thought. Is he a follower or the Dark Lord himself?

_We'll rid you of the muggle father who abandoned you, like I did of mine, and all will be right. _


	18. Chapter 17: President

_**Author's Note:**__ So this chapter is short and not super important. It's really just a lead into the next chapter which will be tons of fun. Insert devious laughter here. The only thing I can really say here is note relationship changes and try to imagine what will go down on Christmas Eve._

_Chapter 17_

At his desk, as usual when more exciting activities weren't demanding his attention, Aidan scribbled away at his homework, the picture he had copied of his parents perched in the corner. His parents. Referring to both halves of his genes with one word was about as strange a concept to him as actually having a picture of them together. Being able to look at an aged photo of someone who was only his age and know that boy is now his father was not only unusual but also a bit frightening when he really studied the resemble between them.

On his bed Pat sat with his antique and uncharmed chess set, playing a game against himself. Either he's trying to develop a new strategy or he's just pathetic, Aidan thought acridly to himself.

In the still of the room, the sound of ebony pieces moving on the board became like audio Chinese water torture for Aidan's eardrums. The slow scratching sound as Pat tentatively pushed his queen forward to take the ivory bishop seemed like it lasted for hours. Aidan dropped his quill angrily in hopes that Pat would be clairvoyant enough to know why. A short temper does not suit me, Aidan thought, recalling many times his mother has gone off on others. It is probably in my genes. At least it's really only frequent around Pat.

Brody was trying unsuccessfully to get a comb through his unruly hair as he stood in front of the mirror. He had almost gotten the wide tooth comb completely through his hair from root to tip but when he was met with a snarl, he decided to try combing the other side of his head to no avail. He gave up with the comb after a few minutes and took to digging out the ratty clumps with his fingers, the sound of snapping hair making Pat cringe but he clenched his jaw shut and did not complain.

"The good little doormat he is. Never speaks up," Aidan grumbled under his breath as he went back to writing his divination essay. In spite of the unorthodox and fairly ineffective teaching, being exposed to all the mystical elements of magic had really opened his eyes, especially after his luck with that crystal ball.

"Okay, I'm going." Brody announced a bit happier than his everyday conduct, which is to say a drastic change. This was to be his second date with Essy and his typical demeanor had already undergone an overhaul of new positive emotions. The question of why was still baffling to Aidan. His time with Essy had made for the most miserable months of his life.

Neither Pat nor Aidan responded to him but he didn't seem to notice or care.

Soon after Brody left, Bradley entered with his hand clasped with that of his girlfriend, Kate, a tall fifth year Gryffindor with light brown, blonde-streaked hair and large brown eyes.

"Hello guys." Kate said warmly when she entered. Pat forced a smile and Aidan turned to give a small wave. He likes Kate in the same way he likes Bradley. She is cheerful and entertaining and always makes you feel important, even if low self-esteem drives you to think there is nothing acknowledgeable about you. They are sickeningly beautiful together.

"I'll leave." Pat blurted out instantaneously as he started to carefully place his chess pieces in their mahogany case.

"What?!" Bradley demanded with mock offense. "We don't need you guys to leave! I don't know why you instantly assume we need privacy. We have self-control."

Aidan snickered noticeably as he started putting his books away. Kate giggled endearingly, not abhorrently while glancing up at Bradley. "Actually, I have to go to a meeting. You aren't driving _me _away," Aidan corrected.

Bradley smiled quickly before his face faded into a look of worry.

"Can I talk to you for a second outside?" he asked, grabbing Aidan by his uniform sweater as if to tell him that he will not accept a no. Aidan nodded and rolled his shoulder backwards until Bradley let go.

The boys stepped into the stairway and shut the door with a quiet click, the perplexing question of what Kate and Pat will find to talk about crossing both their minds for a evanescing second.

"I think this club is bad news, Loomy." Bradley said tilting his head, his russet hair falling into his eyes. "The kids in the club, you know what they think about guys like Pat?"

Aidan stared intensely at him. "Yes, I do. That doesn't make them bad people, Bradley. Don't be so close-minded," he said, trying to pin the shame on Bradley and even the score.

Bradley wasn't having it. "But by believing that, aren't they worshiping . . ."

"Stop it, Bradley." Aidan interrupted, realizing his didn't really have any more defense. "I have to go."

-----------------------------------

Obediently waiting just outside the confidential corridor, Bianca leaned against the wall, inspecting her delicate hair for split ends. Her school skirt was rolled up particularly high and with her leg bent, Aidan got a lovely view of her underwear that made him hope no one had walked by recently and shared in the experience. Some things were meant for few (and he wasn't keen on sharing) although he would have been more ashamed of her careless show if he had actually cared more about her.

Aidan was glad he could finally put a label on his feelings for Bianca. She was not much more than a distraction, something to occupy his time with. He did not feel like he was taking advantage of her though since he was sure that he was not much more to her than a distraction and a status symbol to flaunt around her crowd.

When she caught sight of him, Bianca did not move. She just smiled a come-hither smile and waited for him to approach her. He bent forward to give her a quick kiss but her hands flew to his face and would not release him until she was finished.

She smiled up at him and he snatched her hand and muttered an apathetic, "let's go."

They walked down the suffocatingly narrow hallway, hands interlocked but no words passing between them. Aidan walked in front of Bianca and she followed, having to hold on tighter as he sped up his pace. She wanted to ask him to slow down but he didn't seem to be in a good mood and she wasn't in the mindset to stomach a sharp tone from him.

Aidan pushed open the door to the meeting room and was welcomed with a cacophonous symphony of claps. Bianca's dark red lips curled up into a proud smile and instantly pressed herself against him in her routine blatant display of ownership that Aidan did not appreciate. Chad approached them out of the crowd of green and silver uniforms, his dirty blonde hair in disarray as if he had been partying, and pulled Aidan into what is referred to as a "man hug" in some circles.

"What's going on?" Aidan asked, positive that he was the only one unaware of the need for celebration. The fact that the room was strung up with green streamers with small fireworks bursting overhead was not lost on him.

"A-man, I want to fucking congratulate you on being elected president of this club." Chad said, causing the roar of claps to emerge again.

Aidan raised a confounded eyebrow at Chad and then looked over at Bianca who was beaming.

"And when was this decided?" Aidan asked, trying to piece together the reasoning. It all came back to one conclusion. The cauldron turning black and the snakes. I am the descendant of Salazar, their original leader, and they are all aware of that. Therefore, I am their leader.

"I guess you could say it was a caucus decision that was later agreed upon by all the other members." Chad said grinning his sleazy grin. He could be wishing someone a good morning and that smile would make it seem like he was asking for sex.

"So what does this mean?" Aidan inquired.

"This means all decisions regarding the club will have to be approved of by you. You will schedule our meetings from now on and you will represent the club when necessary. First, you should pick a day for our next meeting." Chad advised, thrusting a mysterious cup of . . . something into Aidan's hand. Aidan hadn't seen him get the cup.

Aidan quickly glanced down at the cup. Clearly it was alcohol. This must be a holiday festivity, he thought, taking a tentative sip.

"How about the day after Christmas break is over? By that time all of us who have left will be back at school." he said. The club members nodded in approval.

"And now, we party!" Chad shouted, raising another mystery cup into the air. Cheering filled the dungeon-like room. "Happy Christmas everyone!"

A few members pulled out their wands and conjured up a table with beverages all over it and another with snacks. Music started to play from an unknown source and a few kids started to dance and take off their school sweaters and loosen their ties.

"So, we're still coming over for Christmas Eve dinner at your house, right?" Chad asked curiously, producing another cup for Bianca.

"Yeah, of course." Aidan said, remembering the invite from a few weeks ago. Every year, his mother liked to have a big Christmas Eve dinner but they didn't have much family to invite since all her aunts and uncles and their families usually had their own celebrations, she would invite some of her friends and always encouraged Aidan to do the same. Aidan had invited Chad and Bradley last year but neither of them could make it. This year, however, Chad, Bradley, and Bianca had all said they were coming. Aidan could see an awkward evening in the making.

"Hey everyone!" Bianca shouted, the first thing Aidan had heard her say all night. The club members looked up from their activities to stare at Bianca. "Let's toast to Aidan! The one who will lead us into a new revolution!"

"To Aidan!" the crowd shouted, knocking back entire cups of punch.

And as bewildered as he was by her tribute, Aidan couldn't deny that he loved his new sense of power.


	19. Chapter 18: Christmas

-1_**Author's Note: **__So . . . I'm still alive! College is a distracting place. As was the last month of my summer. But here's chapter 18! I have not forgotten yet!_

_Chapter 18_

"God," Aidan exclaimed wiping the sleep from his eyes. "It didn't take long at all to get into the holiday spirit did it?"

Magdalena smiled as she closed the oven on a roast turkey, whose scent was filling the entire house to tantalize the guest's tastebuds before they even sat down. She had taken to decorating their home from the second she had woken up, a mere two hours before Aidan. Their kitchen and dining room were draped with green and red with mistletoe under the door ways and the image of snow falling from above that never actually reached the tops of their heads. Their main sitting room was the primary focus, however, with its Christmas tree that just graced the top of the high ceiling and its glittering gold and red stockings that hung in front of the fireplace, where a fire was burning to heat the house and protect from the chill outside. The scent of cooked meat mixed with the smell from the fireplace, creating a strange but not unpleasant olfactory sensation.

Aidan, still fashionably dressed in his underwear and nothing more, looked upon his mother warmly, thinking that she never appeared more like a mother than when it was Christmastime. Being a fairly unconventional parent, Magdalena only really seemed to break out of that picture when it was time for this dinner. She would don an apron, albeit a black one to hide stains, and oven mitts and turn the house into the epitome of a normal seasonal house with a normal and delicious Eve dinner.

Aidan took a seat at the kitchen table and grabbed a roll out of a basket that had been put among many other food items to be served later.

"I think you've prepared a little early." he stated through a mouthful of bread. "No one is coming for at least another four hours. You'll have to heat everything up."

"I know. I just really want everything to be ready. There are so many people coming this year!" she said happy to finally get to see all her friends. Even her mother was getting released from St. Mungo's just to have dinner with them.

"Who exactly is coming anyway?" Aidan asked, now trying to catch snowflakes that were falling from the ceiling in his hands before they could disappear.

Magdalena leaned against the kitchen counter and took off her mitts so she could count off their guests on her hands. She wanted to make sure she had set enough places at the table. "Let's see, there's grandma, Adonia, Edward and his wife will be coming after their kids are asleep, I think Jacqueline and Calum might show up, and well, whoever you have invited. Bradley, right?"

Aidan nodded and went into the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk. "I also invited Bianca, of course, and Chad."

Magdalena's smile wavered slightly but she regained her sanguine countenance quickly.

"I guess I'll just set a few extra places then."

------------------------------------

In an instant, Magdalena's mother, Celeste, was the first to arrive. Standing behind her tightly gripping the handles of the wheelchair she was seated in was a short-haired and unhappy looking nurse wearing St. Mungo's scrubs. The hospital apparently had decided that side-Apparation would be the safest method of travel since a nurse could supervise the short trip.

"Here you go, Ms. Lumairo." the nurse grumbled, clearly bothered by the fact that she had to spend Christmas Eve working. "I'll leave you in the care of your daughter and grandson." She offered a weak motion in the direction of Magdalena and Aidan as if Ms. Lumairo would have trouble spotting them.

"Grandson? I have a grandson?" She questioned as the nurse disapparated.

"Yes, meet your grandson, Aidan." Magdalena said, stepping back in order to allow room for Aidan to give his grandmother a hug.

"Merlin's bread, Magdalena! This boy is fully grown!" she exclaimed, holding Aidan by the shoulders so she could get a good look at him. "He certainly has the Lumairo look to him," she said with pride as she turned his face to the side to see his profile.

Lumairo resemblance, Magdalena questioned. You should see his father, she thought.

"Aidan is eighteen and in his seventh year, a Ravenclaw and Head Boy." Magdalena said, repeating the same speech that she had to perform every time she saw her mother.

"How wonderful!" Celeste shouted. Aidan smiled a sad smile. "I can see the calendar behind you so you, Magdalena, must be forty now! My how my memory has faded! And where is Aidan's father? Have I met him?" She asked avidly. She had always hoped that her daughter would find a good man.

Aidan turned around to look pointedly at his mother, hoping that she may give an answer that would sound like the truth.

Magdalena looked forlorn and she tilted her head down towards her laced, wedding-bandless fingers. "He is dead." she said morosely.

Her mother frowned and reached out to stroke Aidan's head as if he were a newborn in need of consolation. "How terrible." she cooed.

Could that be it, Aidan wondered. Is he dead? Is that why she never feels the need to speak about him? Even if he is dead, that can't be the whole story. She would not hide him from me simply because he is deceased.

Suddenly the somber mood was struck with the clanging of bangle bracelets and the thick aroma of perfume as Adonia appeared in the dining room.

"Hello everyone: Magdalena, Aidan, and Ms. Lumairo!"

She was wearing a loose, white dress with silver and gold shining in elaborate designs on the delicate material. Her usual gold bracelets and high heels were present and her teeth shone brightly against her tan skin when she smiled. She looked like an angel who happened to also be a show dancer at a club.

"Hello, Adonia!" Ms. Lumairo said, kissing her on both cheeks. "I have just been informed that I have lost many years. How are you? What are you doing now?"

"I am well, Cece." Adonia said, glad to see her well enough to join them. "I work at an art gallery now, running tours."

"That sounds like a great learning experience. Are you married, dear?" she asked, knowing that the likelihood of that was slim.

"No not yet but I am seeing someone. His name is Liam." she said, matter-of-factly.

Magdalena nearly dropped the roll basket she was holding. "Liam? Like my subordinate, Liam?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes, that's the one. Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. The last time I visited you at the Ministry, I gave him my number, remember? Well, he finally got the courage to call!"

Magdalena smiled and put the basket down on the table. "That's great." she said truthfully but still trying to get over the peculiar news. She hadn't been in the room when Adonia gave Liam her number so it was even more of a shock than Adonia seemed to think it was.

Adonia nodded and casually walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine purchased for the evening.

"This is mine, yes?" she joked, grabbing a glass off of the table.

----------------------------------------------

Magdalena couldn't stop grinning as she rose to get more wine. In spite of the odd collection of people crowded around her table, the evening was going far better than she could have ever anticipated. Her mother was busy telling a story to Bradley about some crazy thing she did in her past as he listened attentively. They had immediately taken to each other, her responding well to his manners and charm and he to her humor and vitality, and Magdalena couldn't shake the slightly disturbing feeling that, had they been born in the same era, they may have ended up married. Aidan was chatting with Bianca and Chad. She would have been worried that her son was ignoring Bradley, had Bradley not been so involved at the moment.

On the other side of the table, her very good friend, Edward, was having a discussion with her friend, Calum, about the Ministry and just how much they're doing for the wizarding world. Next to them, Edward's wife, Melinda, was talking with, or at least trying to talk with, a very tipsy Adonia, about something Magdalena couldn't overhear.

In the kitchen the bottle of red wine was chilling in a bucket full of ice. She chuckled to herself thinking that she could simply open the window and stick the wine in the snow on the sill if she hadn't been afraid of her dipsomaniac spinster neighbor stealing it. She snatched up the bottle, sure that all the wine would be gone before it would have the chance to get warm, and started to walk back into the dining room when she was forcibly pulled against something.

His lips were as cold as ice, burning her own warm ones, as his hands immediately went to work at pulling up her skirt, his hand running up her leg to her stomach and breasts. With one hand clasped around the bottle of wine, she only had one hand free to push against his shoulders. He didn't budge. His large hands only held her tighter.

Suddenly she was being pushed against the counter as he lifted her leg to wrap it around him and pull her closer. She used the position to give him a swift kick in the side, the heel of her shoe pinching him hard. He loosened his grip, his hands floated calmly to his side, much slower than they should have after such an attack.

"Happy Christmas to you too." he said sarcastically, brushing off his side as if the kick were only a minor nuisance.

"Well, I'm sorry but I seem to have missed a 'Hello, Magdalena' before I was violently grabbed and molested." she added curtly, folding her arms across her chest.

He smiled like he had a secret and produced a box out from behind his back. "I have a present for you." he said innocently as if the phrase should be followed by 'all is forgiven, yes?'

Magdalena put the wine down on the kitchen table and took the box from him, thanking him softly, a bit embarrassed that she didn't have a gift to reciprocate the gesture.

As she tugged at the bow on top of the box, the door to the kitchen was quietly opened and Aidan walked in, eyes widening as they fell upon the stranger in his kitchen. He recognized him instantly as his future. My father is not dead, he thought enthralled by the realization.

"Mom, who is this?" he asked, making his presence know to her even though the stranger had been watching him intently since he walked into the room. The stranger's lips curled up.

Hello son.

Magdalena tried to hide a look of udder horror but Aidan could not help but notice her sudden, fearful look of panic as it morphed quickly into a still-nervous smile.

"Oh, Aidan! You surprised me!" she said, trying to cover up for her less than enthusiastic reaction. She did not look away from him as she motioned to the tall, pale man next to her. "This is an old friend of mine from school. His name is Tom." she said, not realizing that her son already knew the whole story she had never told him.

In unison, Aidan and Tom extended hands to each other and shook in perfect sync.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Aidan said politely, knowing he should make a good first impression on him. He had already made it his mission to get to know this man the second he saw him.

"Likewise, my boy." Tom said deliberately, glancing pointedly over at Magdalena to see her lose her footing at the term of endearment. Aidan also noticeably tensed at the label, wondering if it was supposed to be a hint.

"Will he be joining us for dinner?" Aidan asked his mother, his fingers mentally crossed.

"Oh no," Magdalena said, her voice sounding as if she was truly remorseful. "He has somewhere else to be today." Although she did not know if he really did, she knew he would have to go along with her story anyway.

"Actually, I could stay for a bit," he chimed in, taking a step towards the dining room. "That is if you have room for me." He grinned at her, complacent with the trap he had woven.

Magdalena feigned a courteous smile for her son's sake.

"We can pull up another chair."

----------------------------------------------

It couldn't have been a rape, Aidan concluded. She called him a friend. That implies some kind of close relationship. They must have been together at one point. Or they had a drunken night together which would still imply some kind of loving feeling.

The one thing he could not put his finger on was why she had kept him a secret all these years. She didn't just not talk about him much; she avoided talking about him altogether, even if he asked.

Aidan had been asking Tom questions since he had pulled up a chair next to him. He wanted to know everything: what he did for a living, what his parents were like, what he did in his spare time, etc. The more they talked, the more similarities arose.

Magdalena's other friends had briefly mentioned a few things about their schooling days, trying to place his face among the many in their class. Most of them remembered him as the one who found the kid who opened the chamber of secrets. Bradley and Aidan's grandmother had not given him good vibes. Something about him provoked a hostile feeling in both of them even though Bradley had instantly picked up on the fact that he was Aidan's father. Bianca and Chad, on the other hand, treated him with respect as Aidan had, casually eavesdropping on Aidan and Tom's conversation. Magdalena watched them out of the corner of her eye, ready to end the night at the first sign of suspicious behavior from Tom.

After about two hours, Tom announced that he had to go. Everyone politely said goodbye with handshakes and smiles. Bianca and Chad exchanged ecstatic looks with each other as Aidan boldly hugged him, not wanting to let go of what he had been wondering about for so long.

"Walk me out?" Tom said to Magdalena, as if he had taken some muggle form of transportation to get there. She followed him into the living room where he pulled her into another, even-more-unwelcome passion kiss. She did not make an effort to stop him this time.

When he released her, he smiled at her and raised an eyebrow.

"So, our son looks well," he said, emphasizing the "our". "He's a really smart boy but I guess that's to be expected when he has parents like us."

Magdalena glowered and raised a finger to him.

"Don't you dare go near him again," she threatened. "Don't think I have forgotten why this relationship could not work out. I don't want you corrupting him."

Tom just laughed and disappeared.

Fuming, Magdalena started to walk back into the dining room when her eyes fell upon the present he had given her that she had left on the kitchen counter. She slowly unwrapped the shiny, red paper and removed the top of the box to see a silver locket resting on a soft padding. Carefully, she took out the locket and noticed that the shaft was covered in glowing stars that occasionally moved around as if trying to form shapes. This was what he had talked about in that letter, she recalled, rolling the locket in her hand. She tried to open it but it was clearly bound shut.

Without knowing why, she threw the necklace on and let the locket fall under her dress so no one could see it.


	20. Chapter 19: Outsider

_**Author's Note: **__I am literally crawling to the end of this story. Gah. Well, the last chapter is next. I will have it out before February. I swear this time._

_Chapter 19_

Unaccompanied by Chad or Bianca, Aidan walked down the dark and dingy hall leading the meeting room for the meeting he had scheduled. The slime and grim on the walls had been progressively increasing since his first time going to a meeting but he had failed to notice. He was always distracted by something: Bianca, thinking about assignments he needs to get done when he gets back to his room, thinking about his mother's most recent act of strange behavior. This time he was thinking about his father, one of his more frequent distractions, and repeating in his head what he had said to him when his mother wasn't looking.

"_Come visit me sometime."_

After making the statement, he had clandestinely slide a folded piece of paper into his hand that had his address written on it. He lived in some place called Little Hangleton where he had said he worked at a magical antiques shop.

He knew he would have to visit him during school so his mother couldn't find out; preferably at night when she would be least likely to check up on him or request a visit. There were still so many things he wanted to discuss with his father.

Aidan pushed open the heavy, wooden door to the meeting room. Much to his surprise, the entire room was filled with people but completely silent as they all turned to look at him. A fire was blazing the fireplace to heat the room against the cold air of January that seeped through the cracks in the room's brick construction but none of the candles were lit. The fire glowed behind the shadowed faces of his fellow club members, making them look like a clan of demons, ready to attack him. Aidan wondered if he should say something as they all stared but luckily Chad was there to break the tension.

"Good evening, Mr. President." he said sarcastically, raising a glass in his direction and bowing low.

Aidan knew what was going on. Chad had been talking about him, most likely recounting his Christmas adventures at Aidan's house and meeting his dad. Everyone in the club had possessed an obsessive fascination with him since the cauldron experience back in September and he could tell that Chad was their messenger on the matter.

He couldn't help but think that Bianca was doing the same thing which only served to make him question her sincerity and secrecy in their relationship.

Aidan nodded in acknowledgment and the entire club divided quietly into separate conversations. A few students started striking matches and lighting the surrounding candles so people could see better. Bianca arose from the mass and attached herself to him.

"Hey," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a tight hug. Aidan subtly wiped the dark lipstick off his cheek and hugged her, gently stroking her strawberry-blonde hair. The greeting was strangely less . . . demanding than her usual greeting. Something was going on.

"Hi," he said back, releasing his hold on her. He looked into her nearly black eyes and saw that they were glassy like she was about to start crying.

"You know I do love you, Aidan," she said, holding his hands as if she was afraid to let him go. Aidan leaned back as if the blow of her words had affected him physically. He had never seen her look more genuine.

"I know," he answered even though he still had his doubts.

She smiled and hugged him again, acting very much like a child towards a parent when they think the parent is going to go to the grocer and never come back. Aidan did not reply this time, instead glancing around the room, wondering if he should call everyone to order. What was there to discuss anyway? This was just a place for socialization most of the time with informal experiments popping up every once in a while, with the exception of the cauldron thing.

Bianca started to talk about vacation with Aidan and Chad and what a great time she had as Aidan silently ignored her and took attendance.

_Daniel, Narcissa, Evan, Lucius, __Evelyn, Thorfinn__,__ . . . __Wait._

"Where's Radella?" Aidan asked, interrupting Bianca's critic of his mother's 'lovely' house. He pointed to the part of the wall she always sat against, uncombed hair covering her large, observant eyes and her omnipresent book that she never seemed to be reading.

Bianca rolled her eyes as her lips curled downward. She folded her bony, white arms across her chest in disgust and tilted her head.

"She killed herself over the vacation," she said flippantly, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder in a manner as careless as her tone of voice.

Aidan's eyes widened at both the statement and Bianca's lack of compassion. "What?!" he asked in shock. "What happened?!"

Bianca and Chad exchanged dubious glances as if Aidan's reaction was unusual to them.

Bianca explained: "Well, as the story goes, Radella got into a fight with her father, saying that she couldn't conform to his demands, couldn't be what was expected of her as a Lestrange, couldn't follow his beliefs. He called her a disgrace to the family and said he wished she could be more like her brothers. I mentioned them before, Rabastian and Rodolphus. Then apparently she smiled or something, conjured up some rope and did it from the expensive chandelier in their foyer while they were all off in the other room."

Aidan stood dumbstruck, staring at Bianca and Chad in disbelief.

Feeling uncomfortable under Aidan's heavy gaze, Chad broke the silence with a, "Good riddance, eh? She was just dead weight anyway." Bianca nodded slowly in agreement but Aidan lost it.

"Good riddance! Do you hear yourself?!" he shouted, causing everyone in the club to look at him. "What about me?!" he asked frantically.

"What about you, Aidan?" Chad asked confused.

"Don't I not fit into what you need? Aren't I an outsider?" he asked, gripping his blue and bronze tie as an example of his isolation.

"Of course not, Aidan," Bianca insisted, moving towards him to place a comforting hand on his shoulder that he quickly shrugged off in anger. She backed away, always afraid of him when he loses his temper.

"How can you say that," Aidan asked, snatching her thin wrist so hard that it felt breakable in his hand, "when I am the only one who sees the tragedy in Radella's suicide?"

Bianca's wrist shook in his hand. She was quivering in fear. She forced her eyes to focus on his face so he could see that she was not going to lie to him. "B-Because you were born into it. You're o-one of us." she stammered nervously but earnestly, trying to shake her arm out of his grasp as she spoke.

Aidan released her arm, looking down at her as she rubbed her wrist to dull the pain. He looked around the room at the eyes fixated on him that all slowly downcast in terror and submission.

He turned to Chad who weakly replied, "You're the boss."

Without another word, Aidan stormed out of the room.

_That's it_, he thought. _I am seeing my father right now_.


	21. Chapter 20 Part 1: Reverence

_**Author's Note:**__ Your humble narrator is a cheater. This is Part 1 of the last chapter. What happened is, I started writing over my semester break and then came to the realization that I have a slew of loose ends to tie up and won't be able to do it quickly. Therefore, instead of making you wait, I decided to do this. _

_They should teach Latin at Hogwarts. Think about it. Then again I took a year of Latin and can't remember a damn thing. I'm better with Spanish and Japanese (probably because I have more than a year of experience with each)._

_Chapter 20 (Part 1)_

_Ruthless.__Malevolent.__ Callous._

He took a long gulp of red wine and raised a nonexistent eyebrow, an action that tended to wrinkle his face and make him look like an older version of his serpent visage.

_Thank you for your colorful description of me, Mr. __Babolink_, he thoughtHe chuckled inwardly and carefully folded the latest issue of _The Daily Prophet_ with disinterest in continuing the article. He had already heard a beautifully macabre description of the torture from Dolohov after he had committed it and that was far more entertaining than a doctor's report or a terrified witness' teary recounting, of which Dolohov claims there were none to speak anyway.

"_Master."_

He heard the gentle sliding of Nagini moving along the thick, imported carpet up to his high-backed chair but did not turn around to acknowledge him.

"_Yes?"_ he replied apathetically. Typically Nagini acted as a butler, alerting him to guests and trespassers and he just wasn't in the mood to have to deal with either. Although he had been experiencing a brush of success with his plans for extermination, his plans for recruiting the family he never quite had into his army were not nearly as triumphant. Magdalena had made it all too apparent to him just how much she did not want him around his son and how she really was not interested in seeing him again either even though he could not believe that for a second. Of course, she couldn't watch Aidan all the time, nor could she make his decisions for him. If his son wants to side with him, what choice could Magdalena possibly have?

"_There is a strange boy walking across the yard towards the house."_ The snake hissed, curling gracefully into a spiral on the rug in front of the fireplace as if it had completed its job for the day and deserved the opportunity to relax in front of the smoldering fire.

He tried not to show his eagerness as he sauntered over to the window to see if his unannounced visitor was the one he was hoping for.

"_Can I eat him?"_

----------------------------

Aidan made his way across the expansive lawn with his hands in his pant's pockets, eyes darting around the premises from the large graveyard to the gardener's house to the mansion, in awe that his father owned such expensive property. He had Apparated directly from just outside the school grounds and was still clad in his school uniform. After about a minute of scrutinizing the building in front of him, impressed by the century old architecture that must be holding many family secrets he had longed to hear all his life, he grasped the huge gold door knocker engraved with a Gothic R and slammed it down twice.

On his way through the graveyard Aidan had stopped to read the tombstones. When he had met his father on Christmas, he had not asked for his full name because something about asking his father for his last name sounded peculiar to him. In the graveyard he had quickly learned it though. This mansion had been in his family for years according to the dates etched on them.

_Thomas Riddle._

_Mary Riddle._

_Tom Riddle_.

How strange, he thought. My great-grandparents and grandfather died in the same year. That can't be a coincidence. And where's my grandmother? Still alive I guess. She must be where the Slytherin genes lie since these people seem like muggles.

_Aidan Riddle._

Hm.

--------------------------------------

"I'll be there in a minute," he shouted down as he quickly downed the last of his appearance-altering potion and stood in front of the nearest mirror to watch his transformation. "You can come in," he yelled, using a spell to unlock the door and allow it to swing open, welcoming Aidan into the house.

The room Aidan was met with lived up to expectations tenfold. The staircase in front of him was covered with a blood red carpet and had an intricately designed, gold railing he wondered if he would be able to slide down without breaking his neck by falling over it backwards. Gold candelabra, not unlike those in the meeting room, were strategically placed to give the room just the right amount of light. Above him hung a crystal chandelier coming down from a painted ceiling depicting a sky covered with angels, further emphasizing the muggle nature of the Riddle family. The angels were stationary as were the paintings lining the hallway that the grand staircase led to. Every patriarch easily looked like a relative of his; most of them even had his dark hair and eyes.

In spite of all the luxuries the house held, it looked a little under cared for. The marble floor was dirty and there appeared to be cobwebs on both the candelabra and the chandelier.

"Hello Aidan," a deep voice said, breaking him of his concentration on the paintings. He looked to his left, the man he had wanted to see walking towards him.

Aidan tugged uncomfortably on his blue and bronze tie that had found its way outside of his sweater, wondering what his Slytherin father would think. "Hello . . ." he said, the word trailing off in uncertainty of what to call the man in front of him.

After the longest three seconds of silence in history Aidan spoke again.

"I'm sorry for showing up here unannounced but can we just get this out in the open?" he asked, releasing his tie.

Tom raised a now existing, dark eyebrow at the question, sure he knew what Aidan was getting at but wanting to hear how he was going to phrase it.

"I know you didn't give me your address and invite me to your . . . mansion because you are a lonely and lecherous queer trying to entice me into your bed," he said with a remarkably straight face.

Tom couldn't help but laugh his usual dry laugh. "Well, you've certainly got your mother's way with words," he commented.

"You have to admit the resemblance between us is uncanny," Aidan said, staring straight into the other man's dark eyes. He was looking at his future, a little taller and slightly older than himself, and Tom was looking into his past, dressed in a different uniform.

Tom smirked slightly and motioned to the door behind him.

"Would you like a drink . . . son?"

--------------------------------

Magdalena took one last look around her office before pulling out her wand and making all of her photos, books, and little decorative touches like the gold and purple wallpaper she had used to make the room less grim disappear. I will miss this room, she thought, rapidly realizing that without all her stuff in it, it no longer felt like hers anyway.

Her teaching job was over. Slughorn would be back tomorrow and she would be back in her lab at the Ministry with Liam trying to come up with the most clever way to inhibit and arrest her ex-boyfriend.

Teaching had been a nice break from thinking about the Dark Lord.

Then again, messing around with Tom had been too.

Why was I so careless, she asked herself. Why couldn't I have learned more? I've been behaving like a child lately.

Then again, did I not meet him as a child? It's as if my level of maturity drops to that of a sixteen year old when I am around him.

Dangerous. He may have seemed so harmless, so polite, and so respectable back then but now he is nothing but trouble and I know this. I just find it hard sometimes to remember.

She wandered down the nearly empty hall, trying to stop focusing on what she should have done and instead reflecting on the past three months, thinking about all the students she'll miss. All of them, as it turns out; even the ones who made the job harder than it should be.

Ahead of her in the hall with a lowly dipped head and a hunch in his shoulders, she suddenly noticed a familiar face.

"Hello Sev," she said with a smile at the greasy little eleven-year-old.

"Hello . . . Magdalena," he said, awkwardly, trying out her first name like he was asking a heated question. He had remembered her saying on the first day that she taught that she didn't mind if students called her by her first name but none of them had the guts to except for Sirius Black who particularly liked to shout it out in crowded hallways to make his fellow classmates wonder. "I guess I can officially call you that since you're not my professor anymore," he said, trying to justify himself.

Magdalena smiled. "Of course." They started to walk together down the hall, Magdalena now going back the direction she came.

"So are you leaving tonight?" Severus asked, hoping that she would stay at the castle a little longer so they could continue having talks. He still had so many questions about potions and . . . Lily.

"Yeah, after I say goodbye to Aidan," she said, a hint sadness peppering her voice. "I'm going to miss this job a lot. It's been fun."

"I'll miss you," Severus said, unembarrassed. "You were my favorite teacher."

Touched, Magdalena leaned down to give Severus a hug.

"Like I said, feel free to send me mail any time if you want to talk about your future or girls," she nudged him gently in the side, "or even if you just need a recommendation for a job or something."

Severus graced her with a rare smile.

"I will."

---------------------------

The room they were in was some sort of library. Three of the walls in the room were covered with bookshelves that, upon further inspection, contained mostly muggle novels and anthologies that were covered in dust. However, there were a few bookshelves placed nearest to a red, high-backed chair that were devoted to old textbooks and other magic books that looked well-worn and used.

Nagini moved, Tom noted, looking at the empty rug in front of the fireplace. Hopefully he'll come back eventually so I can see if Aidan is a Parselmouth.

Aidan took a seat on a chair facing the red, high-backed one that he assumed his father usually sat in, since there was a small table next to it that had an open bottle of wine, a glass, and a book on it. He placidly watched Tom go over to a cabinet hidden amongst the bookshelves, take out another glass, and fill it with a generous dose of wine for him.

"Thank you," Aidan said, taking the glass from him and taking a tentative sip. He smiled slightly and muttered quietly, "Same taste in wine."

Tom gave him a look that almost showed a sense of pride in his son, and took a drink from his own glass, settling into his chair. "I take it you have some questions for me. That's why you came I'm sure."

Aidan looked down at his glass guiltily. "Well, yes." He thought about adding that he had wanted to see him again and get to know him also but he didn't want to sound too eager to please. Besides, when he had met him on Christmas, his father had asked him a lot more questions than he had asked his father so it was his turn. "Um, what exactly happened between you and my mum?" He asked, hoping that it wasn't a touchy subject. Of course, the only thing he had said to him at Christmas was that they knew each other from school but his mother had been just down the table from him so he couldn't have really asked anything more in depth.

Tom's eyes drifted to the fire as he tried to stifle a smirk, reflecting on their relationship. "Well, we dated for a while in school. It was a very secretive relationship. I'm sure if you asked everyone at the school about us, no one would have suspected anything."

Aidan thought of his conversation with Professor Dippet. Apparently, someone had noticed them together but he did say he had only seen her with the anonymous Slytherin boy once. They must have been damn good at being surreptitious because Dippet was damn good at being seemingly ubiquitous.

"One day we got into an argument, a pretty heated one, and broke up. A bit hasty, I know. A few years later we were still thinking about each other and we had what you would call a one-night stand. We didn't start dating again afterwards because we starting fighting again and decided to just leave everything as it was before. She never told me that she got pregnant. I'm sure she didn't want to complicate things for me. Only recently did I find out about you among the usual gossip that goes around. It only reminded me of how much I missed your mother and so for the past few months, she and I have been casually seeing each other but after Christmas she stopped talking to me. She was pretty angry at me for showing up unannounced."

"That sounds like mum," Aidan said to try to make his father not feel so bad about getting snubbed by her, in case he didn't know she was usually like that.

Aidan was satisfied with the explanation. It sounded like they actually did care about each other albeit had difficultly agreeing on things. "Is there any chance that you and mum will . . . stay together?" he asked, visions of the normal family that he had always wished would come to be running through his head.

Tom tilted his head, similar thoughts developing in his mind. "I'm not sure yet. I have hope though." He said with an expression that both filled Aidan with happiness at his sneaky sense of confidence and unnerved him slightly.

Aidan smiled and took another drink. "How about your family? I noticed my grandfather's grave out back, along with his parents. They all died on the same day. How did that happen? And where's my grandmother?"

"My mother, who is the one who had Slytherin's genes, fell in love with the muggle, Tom Riddle, and they got married. Riddle left her, most likely while she was pregnant."

Aidan noticed the way in which his father talked about his grandfather. It was like rage was slowly building up inside of him as he rehashed everything he knew about his parents estranged relationship. The fact that he only referred to his father as "Riddle" or "the muggle" was not lost on him.

"She ended up giving birth to me in a muggle orphanage and dying right afterwards. She's not buried in the Riddle family graveyard because the pretentious muggles did not want to have anything to do with her. When I was fifteen I went to look for Marvolo Gaunt, my grandfather, but the only person I found was his son, my uncle, Morfin. He was a loony, living alone in a grimy, diminutive shack in the woods down the road from here. As it turns out he had killed Riddle and his parents. He was angry at Riddle because when his sister ran off with him she not only disgraced the family but she took all the valuables they had with her. Morfin Gaunt died a while ago in Azkaban which means that the last living descendents of Salazar are you and me."

Aidan grabbed his school tie for the second time that night. "Ironic," he deadpanned, referring to his placement.

"I should say so." Tom replied grimly. "You must take after your mother more than me."

"Well, supposedly I had the longest sorting in the history of Hogwarts. The hat had a hard time deciding between the two houses." Aidan said as if he was trying to defend himself. "I mean, I can talk to snakes."

Tom chuckled wryly. The boy clearly wanted acceptance from him which was definitely a trait that would work in his favor.

"Do we have an family heirlooms?" Aidan asked curiously. He had heard that every founder of Hogwarts had a lot of prestigious artifacts that they handed down to their relatives. "Or have they all been lost in time?" With his father's description of the house his uncle lived in and the fact that his grandmother had run off with all their precious possessions, he was pretty sure he'd never get to see any.

"Yes, we have some but they are all in Gringotts right now for protection. There's a black-stoned ring with the Peverell coat of arms on it which I got from my uncle before he was incarcerated and Slytherin's locket which I had to go to great lengths to get since my mother had sold it in desperation." Yes, great lengths like murder. "I'll show them to you someday."

Pleased, Aidan took another drink. "So have you ever wanted to do anything other than work at a shop?" Aidan asked. He hadn't expected his father to have such a ordinary job unless his father had turned out to be a rapist or something. "I mean, I saw that you were Head Boy and everything."

Tom opened his mouth to answer but both of their attentions were caught by a two meter long serpent entering the room. Aidan couldn't help but wince at the sight. Although he wasn't very afraid of snakes anymore, the sheer size of the creature shocked him.

"_Nagini__, say hello to my son, Aidan._" Tom said, patting the thing on the head endearingly.

Nagini analyzed Aidan with a tilted head, making sure to avoid eye contact with him.

"_You have a son?" _Nagini hissed, the question coming out rhetorical. _"Hello, Aidan."_

"_Hi,_" Aidan said hesitantly, the fact that he was making cordial small-talk with a snake, making him realize that there is still so much he doesn't know about his father and himself. Just a few months ago if someone had told him he would find himself sitting in his father's mansion chatting with a snake and talking about his relation to Salazar Slytherin, he would have told them to buy a new crystal ball and have their head examined.

"Anyway Aidan, to answer your question, I did have other career aspirations. Professor Slughorn had tried to set me up in the Ministry of Magic but I wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. I was initially declined a position directly out of school because of my lack of life experience so I decided to just do something I'd enjoy where I could learn a lot. I tried getting a job again years ago but I was denied again. Dumbledore was in charge of hiring professors and he never liked me much."

Aidan looked off towards the fireplace for a second, eyeing Nagini curled up in front of it like a dog or any other less unique pet. He respected Dumbledore greatly and although Dumbledore had seemed apprehensive to get to know him at first, for a reason he still had not determined, he had come to like him too. But he didn't want to share this with his father.

"I like Defense Against the Dark Arts a lot but I've never had the same professor two years in a row. It's strange. Maybe if you had been hired, you would have been able to stay longer than a year." he said with a laugh, starting to feel more comfortable around him.

"That would be my goal, yes." Tom answered, with a smile. He stood up from his chair, setting his wineglass down on the side table next to him. "I have some books that might interest you. I remember you mentioning that you also like potions."

"And Astronomy." Aidan added, standing up and approaching the bookshelf he was motioning to.

"Like your mother." Tom pointed out, extracting a very old and torn red leather bound book. There was no title on the cover, nor any sort of design to indicate what it was about. "I don't know if you know this but she has been wearing those earrings of hers since she was fifteen."

"Wow." Aidan said aware that her earrings were old but not that old, now leaning over the book. "I kind of wish I inherited her skill in Divination though. I'm not very good at it."

"A useful trait I'm sure," Tom said, flipping through the book to find the most intriguing potions to show Aidan. "One that I don't possess either." He turned to share a smile with his son and then pointed to the page he had landed on.

"'Some complicated acts of magic can alter one's appearance, sometimes so slightly that they occur without the wizard or witch knowing that it has happened.'" Aidan read out-loud. " 'These changes can be as minor as a bruise that will disappear in days and as drastic as a total and complete change to the point where the wizard or witch no longer looks human. This potion serves to correct any changes made as if the wizard or witch has never been altered by magic. Vultus Verus will last three hours unless more is consumed before the three hours is up.' I didn't even know a potion like this existed!" Aidan said, excited. "Where did you find this book?" He asked, searching for other strange potions.

"It was just something I found buried in a bookstore once. Many of the potions are for very specific needs so they are not used very often." Tom said, glad he had struck his son's interest. He had found it in a bookstore on Knockturn Alley when he used to work at Borgin and Burkes. It had caught his attention with the first potion, a potion that would fill the drinker with an overwhelming desire to travel to the place where it had been brewed. Archaic, yes, perhaps but still stimulating enough to continue reading.

"Would you like to see what other things I have lying around here?"

-----------------------------------

As Magdalena walked into the Ravenclaw common room, she was filled with memories from when she was in school. Unnervingly enough, the furniture was the same but she was sure there was some extensive magic cleaning involved. She remembered having a study session with her Ravenclaw friends, Jacqueline and Calum, that ended in the three of them falling asleep on the couch, languidly draped in a pile of sleeping bodies. Luckily, someone had woken them up the next day or else they would have missed the exam.

That same couch was occupied by a few third year boys who all looked up from their textbooks in surprise. Magdalena waved at them remembering them from class and continued walking towards where she remembered the seventh year boys dorms to be. The seventh years always got the best rooms, a treat for seniority and suffering through all seven years.

On every door she passed were pieces of parchment that had the names of the occupants. "Brody Craighton," "Bradley Gallagher," "Aidan Lumairo," and "Patrick O'Keefe." This is the room.

Shortly after knocking the door swung open and she was met with Bradley's smiling face.

"Hello, Professor Lumairo!" he said in his usual gregarious fashion.

"Hi," she replied, looking into the room to see only Kate Clary who she knew Bradley was dating. The others probably left to give them privacy. "So I see my son isn't here. Hi Kate."

"Nice to see you, Professor Lumairo," she said, waving.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked Bradley, who instantly got a grave look on his face.

"I haven't seen him since Charms class, which is the last class we have together." he said, tapping his fingers on the door frame. "I saw him leave and meet up with Chad and Bianca. He's been gone for the past six hours. I didn't even see him at dinner." He looked down guiltily. "When Kate and I were walking to my room we saw Chad and Bianca and Aidan wasn't with them. I should have asked them where he went but we aren't on good terms. There's something wrong with those kids."

Magdalena looked down nervously. "Yes, I don't like them either." she said softly, trying to mentally list all of the places Aidan could possibly be. Astronomy Tower. Library. "Thank you anyway." Courtyard. "Hopefully, I will see you sometime again, Bradley. You're always welcome to come visit Aidan when he's at home."

Hogsmeade, if he snuck off.

The bathroom.

Anywhere.


	22. Chapter 20 Part 2: Dead

_Author's Note: Honestly, the ending might seem a little anti-climactic but it was kind of what I had planned from the beginning. Also, really, I'm just glad this story is over. Lesson learned: never write without a full plan ever again. This poor story doesn't even get a soundtrack like most of mine do. Of course if you want to pretend there's one I recommend "Let's Go to Bed" by The Cure (for Tom and Magdalena's relationship), "Miserable Lie" by The Smiths (for Aidan and Bianca's relationship), and "Raven's Land" by Voltaire._

Chapter 20 (Part 2)

So this is father-son bonding, Aidan thoughtas he followed his paternal figure down the hall, his hand sliding along the railing as his eyes passed over the stationary paintings. They had been talking for hours about such normal things like Quidditich, books, music, and hobbies and now he was getting a tour of the house, finding things to discuss every step of the way.

"So even the muggle part of my background was famous?" Aidan asked, moving away from the railing to run his hand along the gold ornate, baroque-style frame of one of the former patriarchs. He looked down at his hand to see the dust he had picked up in the process.

"Yes," Tom answered flatly. "You have quite a legacy."

Aidan paused, staring into the cold, murky stare of a great-great-great grandfather, thinking of the club and the respect he had received almost instantly from his Slytherin classmates wondering what his father would think of such a thing, wondering if his father agreed to the same theories or if he had since parted from such prejudicial thinking that ran in their bloodline.

"What are you thinking about, Aidan?" Tom asked, sensing that something important had been sparked in his mind.

Aidan laughed nervously. "Oh, well when I was a kid I used to think I might be a descendent of Rowena Ravenclaw on my mum's side. When my grandmother was younger she looked so much like those old paintings of Ravenclaw and mum does too a little bit."

Tom's eyelids fell halfway, looking at Aidan inquisitively. That hadn't been what he was thinking about and he knew it. "It's possible," he said dismissively, having wondered the same thing before without thinking about it too deeply. "What were you really thinking about?" he asked, his tone dropping a few notes.

Aidan looked away from his father and back towards the wall again, wondering how he had known that and deciding that there was really no use in lying anyway. Why was he so nervous that he instinctively lied? Was he afraid of the answer?

"Well, at school I'm in this club and the club is made up of Slytherin-house kids but they made me the head of the club. It was almost like they knew," he said slowly, testing the waters.

Tom tried to stifle a grin of success. He had heard about this club since it was formed by 

the offspring of some of his most trusted followers but he had no idea that Aidan would somehow find it. He should have known when he met those two friends of his at Christmas. They gave off a certain vibe.

"How do you feel about that?" Tom asked calmly, folding his hands gracefully in front of him like a psychiatrist.

"Being the head of the club or being in a club with Slytherins?" Aidan inquired, trying to deduce what his father was getting at.

"Both."

Aidan scratched the back of his head, like he was trying to dig out the answers through his skull. "Being in a club with Slytherins isn't too different from being with anyone else really. The only difference is that they are really more biased against our other classmates. It didn't really bother me until tonight when they made some comments about this girl's suicide. . ."

"Radella Lestrange," Tom interrupted.

Aidan looked at him with wide eyes. "How did you know?" He asked. Did his father have connections with the club?

"I read it in the _Prophet_," he said simply. It was not a lie. He had read it in the paper, after Lestrange had told him about it. Tom had never met the girl but he didn't really see a problem with her being alive or dead. She would have just been another kid who wouldn't follow him but wouldn't fight against him either because of her family's involvement. For the most part Lestrange seemed indifferent to his daughter as well.

Aidan nodded with the most miniscule amount of relief. "About being the president of the club I felt . . . powerful."

Tom smirked with pride. "Congratulations son," he gushed, turning around towards an open door at the end of the hallway. "Do you want to see the rest of the house, then?" he asked, motioning to the room.

"Yes," Aidan replied, walking towards him. "But . . . Dad, how do you feel about muggles and muggle-borns?"

Tom's smile dropped. He had been wondering how long it would take Aidan to ask that question. He had been building up to it. He chose his words carefully.

"Muggles have been nothing been malevolent and oppressive to me since before I was even born when my father left my pregnant mother. Muggles do not care to understand our ways because they know deep down that they are inferior to us. And it's not just me who has suffered at their hands; I'm sure you know about your mother's father."

Aidan looked down at the floor knowing that he was right. "And muggle-borns?" he asked. Aidan didn't know how he felt about them personally: Adonia, Pat, Liam, they were all so different. In a way, he was impressed by the spawning of wizards and witches from such ordinary beings. Those muggles who created them should have something special of their own inside themselves to do something so extraordinary. But Aidan did not know what his father would think of the idea.

"They taint the gene pools," Tom said with a much more pleasant tone than the phrase was deserving of, almost as if he was trying to not disappoint Aidan completely. Aidan nodded in a way that said he was merely acknowledging his father's view; he didn't know what to think.

"Now, follow me."

--

Fuming with ire, Magdalena stood outside the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, tapping her foot and checking her thin black wristwatch every five seconds. She had looked everywhere in a five mile radius of the castle and asked everyone she had come across but no one had seen her son for hours. Now she had no choice but to ask the last two people she was sure had seen him. The problem lay, however, in the unfortunate fact that Slughorn was supposed to be back at nine o' clock that night but her watch read 9:15. She couldn't unlock the passage to the dorms, since she was not granted the password. She was not from that house and she was also no longer a teacher at Hogwarts as of 9 o'clock and didn't have a son or daughter in Slytherin house to visit.

From her inquiries, she had found that Chad and Bianca were in fact in the dormitories as some meeting they had been attending had terminated about an hour ago, some meeting that Aidan had been present at. That had sparked her curiosity, but the timid first-year Slytherin was shaking in apprehension at the thought of revealing any details about the meeting to a clearly infuriated professor/mother so he had scurried off the second he saw an opening.

9:20, damnit, Magdalena thought, ready to rip her watch off her arm and smash it.

"Maggie Lumairo!" A voice bellowed behind her.

Magdalena turned around to look at the ruddy face of Horace Slughorn, slightly thankful but mostly annoyed. Aside from not coming back when she had expected, he had also called her the nickname that she had made painstakingly clear to him that she did not like.

"You know, I never appreciated that nickname as a student and now as your contemporary, at least in an academic sense, I find it disrespectful and obnoxious." She blurted out before considering the hundreds of different, more polite ways she could have phrased her distaste for his pet name.

Slughorn furrowed his brows. "Well, you're clearly not the pleasant girl I remember from school, Miss Lumairo. I apologize for making such a mistake." He said, rightfully angry.

Magdalena sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry. That was very rude of me to say. I'm more than a little uptight today. It _is_ good to see you. How is everything?" she asked, trying to hurry the small talk along so she could focus on finding Aidan. But she had never had anything against the man, excluding her disapproval of his favoritism among his students. If anyone ever asked, she always said he was a decent guy.

"Well now that I had my little vacation. How about you? How's work at the Ministry? Are you married yet?" he asked avidly. He loved hearing about the successes and experiences of his 'chosen ones.'

"Aside from the distress I told you about, I'm fine. The Ministry is busy and in a bit of panic, as I'm sure you know, but I love it. I'll miss teaching though. I've had such a good time here. And no, I'm not married." She said quickly, barely taking a breath. She wanted to get to the reason she was there.

"Not married?" Slughorn said, inadvertently choosing the touchy subject to capitalize on. "I always thought you would have found someone easily. You've always been smart and interesting and pretty; I expected guys to be all over 'ya." In spite of his somewhat awkwardly phrased compliments, Magdalena knew to take them as she would if a loving father were saying them.

Slughorn tilted his head as he spoke like he was perplexed by a thought. "For instance, remember back in school there was a kid your age named Tom Riddle? You sat next to him at the one meeting you came to? Well, I always thought something would have happened between you two. You seemed to have so much in common but, hey, I guess my instinct was off." He said with a laugh.

Magdalena's face visibly paled and hardened. He couldn't have known, right? There's no way, she thought.

"What's got you so tense and bothered anyway? Not my students I hope." he asked, walking past her to the front of the wall that concealed the Slytherin common room.

"No." she snapped fretfully reflecting on Slughorn's previous comment. "I'm leaving tonight and no one has seen Aidan in hours. I mean, maybe it's nothing but I have looked everywhere. I was actually waiting here to ask you a favor." She said, in her usual straight-forward manner.

Slughorn smiled. "Anything for one of my favorite former students."

Magdalena smiled back weakly. "I was wondering if you could go into the dormitories and get Chad Harman and Bianca Sarin for me. Supposedly they were the last to see Aidan."

Slughorn tweaked his large mustache contemplatively. "Ah yes. You know, I like Mr. Harman and Miss Sarin but they aren't the fastest brooms in the closet."

Magdalena's lips curled up in silent agreement.

Slughorn kept talking. "Nope, not like Aidan. You've got yourself a good boy there. He'll do great things just like his mother."

"Thank you." Magdalena said, as Slughorn whispered the password to open the passage to the Slytherin common room and disappeared behind it.

--

"You wanted to see us, Ms. Lumairo?" Bianca said, feigning an ingenuous expression that could not conceal her tenseness. She knew Aidan's mother did not like her so she assumed that anything Ms. Lumairo would have to talk to her about would be very serious and could result in a detention or even never getting to see Aidan again. Of course, after the way he lost it at the meeting, she was afraid of that very thing already.

Magdalena's face was rigid and her eyes flared with repressed disgust as she looked at her son's two-faced girlfriend and 'best friend.'

"When did you two last see Aidan?" she asked harshly, crossing her arms in front of her as if she very well could have been one of their disapproving parents.

Bianca looked over at Chad as if she was handing over the duty of answering to him. Neither of them was sure of how they could tell her without revealing the nature of their secret club.

"Well, you see Ms. Lumairo, Aidan was at this . . . party with us and someone made a comment about Radella Lestrange's suicide that he found offensive and he ran out. He didn't say anything about where he was going. This was at around six o'clock." Chad said, trying to only rehash necessary information without detail.

Magdalena was not convinced. "Bradley Gallager, Aidan's roommate, if you remember him from Christmas, told me that he saw Aidan leave with both of you at one o'clock. Were you at this party for a whole five hours?"

Bianca piped in. "Well, no. We went to lunch first. Then Aidan went somewhere to study; I'm guessing the Astronomy Tower since he always goes up there. We met up with him again at five to go to the party." It was not a lie so Bianca felt okay with telling Magdalena the story.

Magdalena nodded, believing everything Bianca had just said but not satisfied with what Chad had told her. "What kind of party was this?" she asked, suspicious of the crowd Aidan sometimes ran with.

"Just a bunch of friends getting together to ease the blow of classes starting again," 

Bianca said casually.

"What kind of friends? Friends of yours?"

Bianca looked to Chad again. "Yes," he said simply.

Magdalena knew what that meant: Slytherins.

"So what was this offensive comment anyway? It must have been something." Magdalena said, staring them down. Guilt began to form on their faces and she knew they were the ones who had made it.

"It was something like 'good riddance,'" Chad said, trying to evade the topic.

"That's awful," Magdalena said dismayed, glowering at them. "Did he say anything before he left?" she continued.

Chad and Bianca shook their heads. "He just yelled a lot about how the suicide was a tragedy and stormed off," Chad said.

Magdalena glanced up towards the ceiling. Something did not add up. She was more of the dramatic exit type than Aidan. If he were to leave out of anger over an insensitive comment, he would say where he was going for emphasis ("I'm going to the library so I won't have to hear this rubbish!"). He would not disappear. There must be more.

"What was the last thing you said to him before he left?" she asked, her eyes fixated on their faces for any sensation that might run across their features.

They both distinctly remembered what they said but neither of them spoke; not even to lie.

"What is this club you're all in?" Magdalena asked, leaning towards them. Bianca took in a sharp breath of noticeable fear.

"It's just, you know, a club." Chad offered weakly.

"Aidan is really special." Bianca blurted out as if she couldn't contain herself. In truth, she possessed a certain amount of strange admiration for Magdalena. No one had ever gotten so close to the Dark Lord as Magdalena had, so to speak, but why she wasn't on their side was apparent. She didn't agree with them and Bianca was starting to think Aidan had been corrupted by his mother, since he had never known his father. She was also pretty sure Aidan's mum didn't know for sure if Aidan's father was the Dark Lord. It was only really known among his followers that he was related to Salazar Slytherin. The public had yet to find out but she was sure they would eventually.

The thing that still confused Bianca about Aidan's father however was the man who came 

to Christmas dinner. Who was he, she wondered. Tom! That was his name. He looked so much like Aidan; he easily could have been his father. However, she had been told by her parents that the Dark Lord looked particularly snake-like; nothing like the handsome man who had eaten with them. Aidan had seemed convinced that he was his father. The Dark Lord must be able to take on different forms. And if Ms. Lumairo doesn't agree with the Dark Lord's way of thinking, why would she have invited him to dinner? She's not putting on an act with all this pro-mudblood stuff so maybe he had cast a spell on her. . .

Magdalena raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you are thinking he's special for a completely different reason than I am." They know his father is one of those things, those Death Eaters. Special. Hell, they may have found a way to prove that Tom really is this 'Dark Lord.'

"Thanks," Magdalena said curtly. I am not closer to finding Aidan, she thought as she ran towards the Astronomy Tower to check for the third time. But at least I have the comfort of knowing that somehow every prejudice Slytherin bastard in school worships Aidan because they have discovered that he is a descendent of Salazar himself. Maybe they even suspect him of being the Dark Lord's son.

Fantastic.

--

Feeling dejected, Magdalena stood on the rickety bench of the Astronomy Tower, looking out on the empty castle grounds as warm tears started to form in her eyes.

"Where's Aidan?" she wondered as a tear rolled down her cheek that had turned a bright pink shade from the freezing air passing through the tower.

She was standing on the exact same historical spot that she and Tom had sat on during their first official date. It was even close to the actual day, as if her return to the tower was a celebration of their twenty-fourth anniversary. She tried not to think about him of all people, as she knew it would distress her more, but she couldn't help but remember that night.

"I can't believe I kept that damn rose," she said quietly to herself, picturing the dried out rose on her nightstand. She still wondered why she had it. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was sure she kept it because she still cared about him. At least, the person he was when he had given it to her.

She sometimes wondered if he was the only person who ever truly cared about her. Every other guy who had wanted her either thought it would be fun to take advantage of such a strange person, found her oddly beautiful and didn't care to get to know her, or was too young for her, and therefore, she felt was too ignorant to even understand such feelings.

_His lips against hers as her pushed her down onto the bench . . . one of his hands entwining in her hair as the other cold hand ran slowly up her leg . . ._

Magdalena shivered at the images her mind drew and bit her lip, trying to keep from crying any more. She wasn't this weak. She doesn't cry.

"Where is Aidan?" she asked the wind. It responded with a bitter breeze that made her think of Tom's hands again, a thought that made her want to jump off the tower for being so uncharacteristically dependent on the comfort of a memory.

She sat down on the bench and hung her head in her hands, her brain dizzy from stress and the cold air that usually didn't even affect her.

"Where's my son?" she yelled, her tears of frustration turning quickly to uninhibited anger.

Suddenly, Magdalena jumped in her seat as she felt something ice-cold against her heart. Instantaneously she pressed a hand to her breast and beneath her black sweater, she felt something hard.

The silver locket!

Magdalena had forgotten about it. She hadn't taken it off since Christmas so she usually didn't even realize that she was still wearing it.

She reached into her shirt and pulled out the necklace, shocked to find that the locket had opened. The chilled face of the locket pressing against her skin had been what startled her. The stars on the face of the locket were now stationary and glowing red. She looked inside to see that the two halves had a swirling, misty substance inside that reminded her of a crystal ball. Curiously, she stared at them as she would if she were trying to make a prediction and saw a house in the abyss. Well, it wasn't so much a house as it was a mansion. A mansion she had visited twice before: once in a nightmare, and once in a dream-like daze that, regardless, was still reality.

The Riddle Mansion.

Magdalena had heard of a cornucopia of different charmed items that could show you what you want but never a locket that acted like a crystal ball and responded to questions. Thinking back, Magdalena realized that she had asked different variations of 'where's Aidan' three times outloud before it opened. That must be how it works.

But how could Aidan be there? Magdalena watched the locket for a prolonged minute but the image of the stately home never faltered until the locket eventually snapped shut, almost nicking Magdalena's right thumb in the process.

Magdalena started to descend the stairs of the tower thinking she should find somewhere that didn't have the school's apparition restriction on it so she could make an attempt at getting there.

Did Tom give Aidan his address when I wasn't looking? Is this a trick? I did get this locket from Tom for Christmas. He had said in a letter that he had a locket that I would like but that he didn't know how it worked. And why would he be trying to lure me to the mansion at this time and not sometime when I did not have more pressing matters to attend to.

No, Aidan must be there. I saw the light in his eyes when he met Tom. He had found what he had been searching for his whole life and if she knew Aidan, and she did, he would not just let such an opportunity pass him by.

I must go to the Riddle Mansion.

--

Magdalena found herself on the side of a grassy hill that she had remembered standing on top of just months ago at night as she waited for Tom to open the door to the mansion. She looked towards the ominous, stone mansion in the distance and saw the door open. She quickly crouched down into the grass, hoping that the figures she saw leaving the house would not be able to see her over the high topiaries that lined the path they were walking down that led to the cemetery. Even at such a distance, she could see the figures of Tom and Aidan, each of them holding their wands out in front of them to light the way down the path.

They were heading towards the cemetery.

Stealthily Magdalena crept threw the grass in the direction they were walking, trying to form a plan. All she was sure of was that she wanted Aidan away from Tom but she hadn't exactly thought about how she would succeed in doing this without interrupting their father-son bonding with an announcement that Tom was a death eater, a claim she didn't even have physical evidence of. The only alternative she could think of would be to spy on them for now to make sure Tom didn't do anything corruptive and then talk to Tom about it later.

The two figures had reached their destination and Magdalena took to concealing herself in a dark spot behind a large tree growing close to the headstones but far enough away so that there would be a slim chance of them walking in her direction. She could see their place faces illuminated by the moon. Tom was standing towards the center of the graveyard while Aidan slowly walked around, studying the headstones and statues intensely.

"You know you've made it big when your family has its own personal graveyard," Aidan joked, getting a smile out of Tom, the moonlight reflecting off his pale skin making him look nothing short of sinister.

Tom turned around, his gaze falling directly where Magdalena was hiding, and he quirked his head to the side with intrigue.

"Aidan, I think we have a visitor," Tom said cheerfully as he lunged at the tree, grabbing Magdalena's arm before she had a chance to dodge him or disapparate. He flashed her his most menacing smile before pulling her out of the darkness and into the graveyard.

"Mum?" Aidan asked thinking the question of what she was doing there was implied.

Neither of his parents looked at him because they were locked in a staring contest: Tom giving Magdalena a sly smirk that revealed in her misery and Magdalena giving Tom a death glare that would make anyone else quiver in fear. After ten seconds of loaded silence, Tom pulled Magdalena with two hands into a forceful kiss that Magdalena instantly started trying to get away from. Aidan turned his head away from the scene, at first, thinking it should be biological encrypted in his cells that he would be disgusted by the sight of the people who made him engaged in a passionate embrace. However, after a few seconds, he turned back towards them, concluding that he should be happy by this before he realized that his mother was fighting against his father.

Magdalena, who had her eyes open and her hands pressed firmly against Tom's chest, suddenly felt something sharp against her scalp that she identified as Tom's fingernails. Her eyes grew wide as he raked them through her hair making her realize that they were pointed and dug deeply into her head to the point where she was sure she was bleeding. When he had grabbed her by the wrist he had accidently dug his fingernails into her and they were short and flat.

Aidan rubbed his eyes furiously, sure that the blue-green hue he saw rising up in his father's skin was a mere trick of the moonlight, maybe he wasn't blinking properly and his vision was distorting.

Magdalena started involving her foot, pressing it into Tom's stomach the second she noticed his skin. Somehow his mutant hands became vice-grips on her arms, prevented her from backing away from his mouth which was growing colder instead of warmer and dry instead of wet.

Tom opened his eyes revealing red eyes that burned with fervor, for what Magdalena was unsure but she let out a muffled squeal of shock and horror. Tom held her closer, limiting the movement of her legs to the point where she could barely fight back. All she could do was watch in repulsion as his nose shrank to snake-like slits, his skin became even more discolored and transparent, and his hair disappeared completely.

When he finally let her go after his transformation had completed, Magdalena literally jumped as far back away from him as possible, stealing a glance over at Aidan whose mouth had dropped in an almost comic manner of surprise.

Magdalena wiped her mouth with the back of her mouth, finding nothing palpable on it but trying to rid herself of the feeling of his lips pressed into hers.

"I knew it," she loudly accused, pointing a finger at him as if she was condemning him but he felt no disgrace.

"Of course you did," he said unmoved by her revelation. "You were always a very clever woman, Magdalena. And I bet you even know what I used to fool you," he said, calmly folding 

his long, skeletal fingers in front of him.

Magdalena rolled her eyes at herself. "Vultus Verus. I must be losing my touch," she said, extracting her wand swiftly and pointing it at him.

"Potions always was one of your best subjects," Tom noted casually as if this was just a typical reunion. "You just aren't as perceptive as you were, my dear. Did you know our son can talk to snakes?" he asked with a smirk, knowing the answer.

Magdalena shot a look at Aidan that spoke a loud and angry exasperation of 'what?!'

Aidan looked earnestly at Magdalena, wondering if he was going to be completely left out of the conversation up until that point. "I only found out recently and I didn't want to freak you out, mum. I didn't know you knew about dad's family."

"Dad?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow. Aidan didn't respond, just looked towards the ground. Magdalena exchanged glances with Tom who flashed a toothy grin that made her instinctively start walking sideways toward Aidan until she was standing in front of him protectively, her eyes never leaving his.

"Why?" Magdalena demanded.

Tom chuckled deeply, as if her angry was amusing. "You are no superficial person Magdalena, but you do read the paper. If I had appeared to you in my actual form you would have dueled me on the spot. No questions asked. You wouldn't have even cared to find out that your Tom was actually the man inside."

Magdalena smiled, a smile meant to lure one into a false sense of security, a smile that mirrored the man's in front of her. "My Tom . . . is dead," she said with an eerie sense of composure that anyone could see as the calm before the storm.

"Why did you want to contact me anyway? Why did I all of a sudden become your new conquest?" she asked, still with her wand directed at him, still more relaxed than she should be for someone ready to strike.

"I must admit, I tried to forget you but you are a hard one to forget," he said meeting her smirk challenge as if they were seeing who could be more annoyingly complacent. "I had to move on, I had to focus on my lifelong goals that you had so blatantly chosen not to be a part of. It wasn't until Lestrange had shared with me that he had seen you on the platform, and, from the way he talked about you, had hit on you to no avail. Of course, he was punished appropriately. However, aside from stirring up those memories I had magically repressed, he told me that you had shared with him that you have an eighteen-year-old son."

Magdalena's eyes widened in aghast. So he had known that they had a son for much longer than just the Christmas party! He had sought her out because he knew!

"Now, I will also admit that you were a fascination of mine for a long time after we stopped seeing each other and I knew that you had not been seeing another man eighteen years ago when you so willingly gave yourself to me. . ."

"Willingly!?" Magdalena shouted furiously.

He ignored her flare-up and continued. "I guess one night was all we needed. I couldn't just let this new information go unacknowledged. I wanted to see you again. I wanted to meet this boy. And what a good boy he is," Tom added, taking a step towards them.

"Stay away from him," Magdalena commanded, tightening her grip on her wand.

He blatantly disregarded her demand and continued walking slowly, allowing his mouth to run amuck. "You know, you were the only person who could say my birth name and not make me cringle with distaste?" he asked, moving a large step forward.

"Well, that doesn't really matter anyway," Magdalena spat back. "You are Lord Voldemort now. Hell, you were probably Lord Voldemort then most of the time; we just didn't have a proper name for it; and what a silly name at that!"

He cocked his head to the side and gripped his chest melodramatically where his heart would be if there actually is a vital organ there. "That was harsh, Magdalena. I loved you, did I not?"

Magdalena laughed far too loudly and bitterly. "What do you take me for?" she asked rhetorically. "You never loved me! I'm sure you have no idea what love entails. You just want to possess me, to have me as one of your sycophantic followers!"

He simpered at her as a silent confirmation that she was right and he was fine with the truth. "But you know what love is, don't you? You can't hide the fact that you loved me. You love your mother, lying pitifully in that hospital bed, a mistake on my part I will admit but I am not all to blame for her careless behavior. Jumping in front of a mudblood! Oh, foolish! You love your filthy friend, Adonia, too. And you love our son, which is why you are still standing in front of him as if you are afraid I would hurt him. He is not a child, Magdalena. He has been legal for more than a year and perfectly capable of defending himself what with his fortunate genetics. And what motive could I possibly have for hurting him?"

"How about if I attack you first?" Aidan chimed in, raising his wand over Magdalena's head and pointing it at him. Up until that point, he could only watch in dismay as his most bizarre nightmares took form before his eyes but the mention of him had snapped him back into reality, deciding quickly what needed to be done.

He feigned a look of hurt at his son's question. "But why would you want to attack me, _son_? We just started to get to know each other!" he said, hoping that somehow Aidan's deeply rooted desire for a father figure was stronger than whatever silly morals his mother had hammered into his brain. "Your mum is like you, Aidan, always trying to believe that everyone 

is equal, always trying to do the right thing. But she isn't as level-headed as you. You know that there are the superior and the inferior and you know which is which."

Aidan was caught off guard for a second, a part of his brain thinking that his father made a valid point, thinking about what that kind of power, the kind his father had, would feel like. The opposing part of his brain reminded him that he was dealing with a serial killer who, while unlikely to hurt him if for no other reason than because he could carry on his legacy, had just brutally insulted his mother and grandmother.

Against one half of his judgment, Aidan found himself stunning his reptilian looking father unsure if it was because he had decided against him or if he just wanted him to stop putting such tempting ideals into his mind.

Approaching him quickly, Magdalena stood over him, her wand pointed at his head.

"I could kill you right now," she declared. "I'll bet I wouldn't even get prison time if I did because you are the most wanted wizard in the world and I am a Ministry worker."

His face was frozen in a permanent smirk from the spell.

"I have dignity however, so instead I propose a deal. If you promise to never communicate with or come anywhere near me or my son again I promise not to kill you right now. When I leave, you will go back to scheming and murdering and I will go back to working towards your downfall but, for now, these are the terms," Magdalena said sharply, now pressing the tip of her wand into his forehead, hard enough to leave an indent. "Remain silent if you agree to these terms."

He did not say anything, mostly because he was still stunned.

Keeping a close eye on him, Magdalena removed her wand, admiring the red mark she left and hoping it would last for a few days as a reminder. She tapped a finger to the tip of her wand finding that it was burning hot.

"Goodbye forever, Tom. Here's to your death, Voldemort," Magdalena uttered unable to shake the feeling that if he could move, he would be laughing at the valediction.

With a strong stride, Magdalena walked over to Aidan snatching his wrist in hers.

And they were gone.

--

When they reappeared just outside the Hogwarts grounds, Magdalena instantly pulled Aidan into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, Aidan," she murmured. She was not crying but Aidan had a feeling she 

would once she was alone. He knew his mother didn't like crying in front of other people because she hated seeming weak. "I should have told you about your father. I knew he was a bad man but I didn't know. . ."

"I know," Aidan interrupted, stroking his mother's back in an effort to calm her. "I know now. I don't think he'll try to attack us." Aidan truthfully wasn't sure but he couldn't think of a logical reason why he would try to hurt them. They hadn't chosen to follow him but they weren't really a threat. Even at his mother's job, she was only creating weapons, not using them.

"I hope not," Magdalena said trying to be more realistic based on her history with him. Loosening her grip on her son, she looked into his dark eyes. "I'm proud of you for making the right decision," she said seriously.

Aidan nodded slowly to appease her but he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't.

--

Epilogue (to make you feel good about the anti-climactic ending):

Severus and Magdalena become penpals and remain so for years and years. He never hooks up with Lily unfortunately (as you know).

Bradley and Kate move to China to train animals: Bradley specializing in dragons (particularly the Chinese Fireball, obviously) and Kate specializing in Pixies and Unicorns. Kate also becomes the human leader of China's chapter of the House Elf Liberation Front. They become engaged after three years.

Pat joins the Ministry as an Arithmacy worker and occasionally takes time off from work to enter worldwide Wizard's Chess tournaments. He eventually gets a job as an Arithmacy teacher at a private school in England at the age of twenty-seven.

Brody works his way up to become the manager of the largest magic library in England. He has devoted copious amounts of time to becoming like a human card catalog.

Bianca takes her break-up with Aidan very badly and goes on a binge of partying and drinking, only finding comfort after her mistakes by talking to Chad. On drunken night they hook up but deny the occurrence the next day and stifle any feelings they have for each other until after they graduate. Chad gains ownership of an ancient weaponry shop in Knockturn Alley and Bianca gets a job working as a secretary/treasurer for a "secret organization."

Adonia and Liam get married.

Aidan becomes a research doctor, his main goal being to find a cure for those who have magic-related memory loss and those who have been driven mad by the Crutiatus Curse. On a year 

spent working at a hospital in Italy he meets a woman named Silvia and they marry. They have fraternal twins named Ian and Lucia. Lucia becomes a beater on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and Ian upholds the family tradition of becoming a prefect and Head Boy.

Eventually as the years pass he comes to terms with the fact that he made the right decision to keep his father out of his life.

Tom keeps his promise. If for no other reason than breaking it would be too much unnecessary trouble when he has much more "important" things to do.

And, as for Magdalena, although she never finds someone, she is happy. She knows that everything worked out for the best and takes comfort in how truly lucky she really is.

And she never has another nightmare about him.


End file.
